Dishonored
by joelcoxriley
Summary: When a young knight becomes exiled from his home, the young man, guilty about his failure, tries to regain his honor and forgiveness from his deceased lady. In doing so, the young knight stumbles upon a dragon-one of the last of an ancient breed. But there is more to this dragon than meets the eye.
1. Execution and Exile

**Ok, so this story just popped up into my mind and I thought it would be neat to write about.**

**NOTE: Religion was EXTREMELY important in the Middle Ages, it is not MY views. If anyone has a problem with exes religious views DO NOT read this. If I get any flames about religion I will not care, but I will respect your opinion. I gave my characters(most of them) this trait so they would be more realistic, not for my views. This chapter also has extreme emotional tormoil and character death(well one person, still). Either way, I hope you readers enjoy. The dragons shall come in on the second chapter.**

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"Stop! For the love of God, stop this madness!" Silas cried, breaking lines as he approached the gallows, hair clinging to his forehead from perspiration as he raised his hands. His reflective eyes looked at the very people whom he had called friends, but now, looking at the people that he had known all his life, they seemed like strangers.

"Have you all gone mad?" Silas asked softly, glancing from face to face, his unsteady hands slowly falling to his sides.

"Have you lost your minds? What madness has claimed you all?! This woman-our Duchess-you all knew her since she was a babe! And you watched that babe grow into a girl-and-and that little girl grow into a beautiful woman! You cannot end her life like this! Surely any of you-one of you-feels the slightest wrench of guilt in your chest? My Duchess, our Duchess, she is innocent!"

"You speak lies!" Eamon roared, his voice booming with authority. "You say that she is innocent yet her womb is soiled with the Blasphemer's seed!"

"The child is an innocent, my lord! Tainted it is in origin the child is pure in soul! You dare damn a child yet to leave its mother's womb?"

"The child is guilty of sin as much as its blasphemer parents! Would you allow the Devil's spawn to be unleashed into this world? That man is Lucifer incarnate! You have seen his desecrations!" Eamon hissed, Silas throwing up his arms in furry.

"Then cauterize the sin itself! Kill the man! Kill the man that started all this madness and prevent him from spreading the taint!" Silas spoke in frustration, pointing in accusation at the Necromancer tied to a stake, the man lifting his head up weakly. The man's face was swollen, his eye cut and bleeding with cracked lips as his chest heaved up and down slowly, his breath raspy and soft.

"Why cauterize the sinner and not the sin? The man is guilty of necromancy and the Duchess his accomplice!"

"Then I fear I am as guilty as sin itself, my lord! For it was I who allowed this travesty to occur! Not the bone conjurer! Not m' lady! But I, Silas Adler, a once noble knight that had swore loyalty to the Grand Duke of Bavaria!" Silas spoke, his voice strong as he stood against many, looking at the sullen Duke.

" I apologize, my Duke, for you had spoken so highly of me, and honored me as your own son. Now, however, I fear I have dishonored your trust by failing your daughter. Surely you do not wish this death on you daughter, my lord? But you want blood shed for this crime, yes?" Silas asked, the crowd roaring in rage as they threw stones, rotten fruit and vegetables at the knight, the stench staining his armor as he shielded himself with his hands.

"Stone him! Bring your stones upon the chaff like the Wrath of God himself!" Eamon roared, raising his arms in an almost divine manner, feeding the frenzy.

"What are you doing, Eamon? He wishes to speak!" William hissed, watching with horror as the knight was knocked to the ground from a blow to the head. He could hear the Duchess' cries over the roars of the crowd.

"Silas! Silas!" Anaya shrieked in terror, the mob running out of fruit and stones as they approached the man, Silas now struggling to crawl away. The mob was only fed from the sight of blood running down the knight's temple, the life blood coating his fiery hair.

"Stop! Stop all of you! You are killing him!" Anaya screamed, tears pouring down her face as the woman struggled to break her bonds, flailing desperately as she looked towards her father. She didn't understand! Why wasn't he doing anything?!

"Stop them! Tell them to stop, Father! He is dying!" Anaya cried, pleading as she struggled against the Executioner's grip.

"What are you doing, Eamon? Call them off! Call them off, brother!" William looked at his King desperately, his eyes wide in terror.

"When have your eyes been clouded by such darkness that I could not see them?" William asked, Eamon glancing coldly at his younger brother.

"Sinners deserve no mercy." Eamon spoke, a collective gasp coming from the crowd upon seeing the gleam of a sword drawn.

"Back! Back I say!" Silas roared, keeping the crowd at bay with his blade, the knight swiftly spitting blood into the dirt as he struggled to keep his footing steady.

"If it is blood you want..." Silas paused, his breath in short, swift gasps as he glanced at all the former friends and familiar faces. He didn't understand. How could they so easily become savages?

"Then it is mine you shall have, and not the blood of innocence!" Silas spoke, his blood dripping on the ground as he looked at the crimson liquid, taking his time to steady himself.

"I care not what you do with that man, but let my Duchess go." Silas glanced at Anaya, the woman shaking her head as tears gently fell down her cheeks.

"Silas, no..."

"What say you, my King? Your niece alive and well while the guilty lay cold and dead."

"And risk that abomination from escaping? My niece is far from innocent as you claim, knight. You are saying that she has taken no part in necromantic practices?" Eamon asked.

"Aye, my liege. The only one guilty of desecrating corpses is that man! As for failing to inform your counsel of dark magics I have no excuse! That man and I are the only ones who should shed blood today!" Silas admitted, the crown beginning an upstart again.

"Enough!" Eamon's voice echoed throughout the area, the crowd quieting to a fuming rage.

"You shall get your wish for death, knight. However, your lying to defend my niece is further proof that she was involved in the dark arts, as were you!" Eamon hissed, Silas' eyes widening in shock.

"What you speak of are lies, you wretched old man!" Silas cried in rage, stabbing his sword into the earth. "Your tongue is tainted black with poison!"

"May God damn your eternal soul, liar!" Eamon hissed.

"No! As God as my witness, may He strike me down if any blackened lie ever stained my tongue!" Silas cried, falling to his knees upon his sword, as if in prayer.

"As God as my witness..." Silas whispered, feeling blood trickle down his open palm as he sliced his hand upon the steel edges of the blade.

Silas paused, watching the blood run down his blade, his steel eyes watching the liquid run down his hand and drip onto the ground.

"As God as my witness I swear that this woman is innocent!" Silas cried. "And that the blood shed on this blessed blade is from a man whom is truly guilty." Silas paused, sucking in air as he clenched his bloody palm shut.

"End my life, m' Lord! For this man-this Knight of God, Knight of Country, Knight of Honor is willing to die so the truth shall live!"

"Mercy, my King. Mercy is all I ask for your niece and her child. That is all I ask. Kill me however you see fit-I care not for an honorable death or if you parade my corpse around Regensburg with shame. Let not my family name be damned for my actions, no! For this was my choice and mine alone. Just as it is my choice to ask for death in order to birth the truth." Silas spoke softly, his eyes downcast, refusing to meet the Page's eyes rimmed with tears and confusion.

"Berend, go inside. You need not see your cousin in such a state." A man spoke, ushering the young boy away from the crowd.

"But Uncle-"

"No buts, little cub. Now go." The man urged, pushing the reluctant boy away. The man then turned at attention to his Duke before turning his gaze to the King.

"Do you think me a fool?" The King asked darkly, a twisted snarl molding his face as his eyes narrowed on the knight. No one dared breathe. Not even the faintest of whispers.

"Begin the executions!" Eamon ordered, the crowd cheering as fear reflected in the knight's steel eyes.

"SILAS!" Anaya cried in terror, being forced to her knees.

"NO!" Silas wrenched his sword from its earthen cage, his steps faltering to a stop as his sword clanged to the ground upon seeing the axe cleave the woman's head from her shoulders.

"No...ohhhhh, no!" Silas grieved, his breath in struggled gasps as the knight fell to his knees, a heart wrenching sob racking his body as sorrow filled his soul.

The crowd cheered upon seeing the woman's head roll onto the ground, Eamon smirking as the Executioner beckoned the axe back, like the scythe of the Reaper. Some of the hair that had been cut refused to leave the sharpened edge, held by the thick blood that dripped from the axe. The slaying was fit for an animal.

"A just slaying." Eamon spoke, looking at his brother, noticing the Duke had cast his gaze elsewhere. He couldn't even look at the spectacle of blood.

"You murdered my child like a beast!" William hissed weakly, tears running down his greying beard, the Duke leaning against the wall for support. He wasn't sure whose sorrow was worse.

"O Holy Father and Son in Heaven, may you have mercy on these poor souls. May you have mercy on us all." The man whispered softly to himself, watching helplessly at the dismay of his son from within the crowd.

"Light the Necromancer aflame." Eamon ordered, the Executioner nodding as he was handed a torch, his mask as black as death, his eyes showing no remorse as he approached the man bound to the stake. The Necromancer lifted his head to look at the man, his eyes red with silent tears, his electric green eyes staring at the man's hidden in shadow.

"You have the eyes of envy, Demon Whisperer." The Executioner spoke, his voice deep and grave, the Necromancer staring at him, unblinking.

"You speak truly, good man. I envy...to be with those whom you have murdered: my love and child, now dead in its mother's womb." The man spoke, his voice steady with a sort of calmness of one who had already accepted his fate.

"Death...is fleeting, of that I know. But after? I have heard many things in Hell, my friend, many things...have seen many things that no mortal man should see. Lost souls, spirits that lie, spirits that haunt-demons. They are all the same. I only pray that God will allow me some form of mercy and let me be with them-even for a second. Burn me, if you wish. It will only give me but a small taste of the flames of Hell." The Necromancer muttered, the light of the flame reflecting in his eyes.

"May the Lord have mercy on you, for you shall find none here." The Executioner spoke, the flame flickering in withheld rage as the Necromancer's lips moved in silent prayer.

"No, do not touch that man! Do not touch that man!" The Executioner paused as Silas approached, his stride swift yet numb, face alight with rage and sorrow.

"Halt, Adler! Your death shall come in due time. No need to hasten it." The Executioner spoke gruffly, turning to light the stake ablaze before being run to the ground, the flame dying as it hit the earthen soil.

"Enough! I said enough, damn you!" Silas bellowed, the tip of his blade keeping the black masked man pinned, the cold steel of death pressed against the man's neck.

"You have lost your mind!" The man shouted, the Necromancer raising his head to look at the knight. Silas' breath was swift and heavy as he glanced at his tied antagonist.

"Perhaps I have, I know not." Silas replied, his steel cold eyes rimmed red as he hastily wiped them, sword arm shaking.

"Forgive me, but I shall not fail again." Silas whispered softly, and in one fell stoke swung at the Necromancer.

The crowd gasped as the man fell to the ground, the bonds severed from the dual edged blade.

"W...Why? Why show me mercy?" The man asked, getting up, blood covering his body from torturous beatings, his movements stiff.

"Ask me not, but take your leave. You and I are no longer welcome here." Silas spoke, turning toward the enraged crowd as several knights making their way towards the pair.

"Go." Silas ordered, pushing the man away.

"Go! Go and live for your child!" Silas hissed, the man looking at him with respect and admiration. The hostility that once existed between them had vanished.

"My God have mercy on you, friend."

"And He you."

The man took off fleeing, the guards not even bothering to pursue. The knights unsheathed their swords, Silas looking back to see the man long gone, the man slowly lowering his sword.

"Do as you wish with me. I will not fight you." Silas sighed, sheathing his sword, his former brothers bounding his arms as he was led toward the gallows.

"Hang him in the gallows!" Eamon roared, the crowd cheering, several knights pushing the rioters back as they tried to strike out at the traitor.

Silas hung his head down low, not daring to meet his father's eyes from within the crowd. He didn't feel worthy to look the other in the eye.

"Why, Eamon? Has not enough blood been spilt? Was the death of your kin not enough?" William asked, his voice grave, wrath hidden within.

"They were your kin, not mine, William. Nor is that chaff yours." Eamon responded coldly, watching several of the rioters throw various objects at Silas, hitting several guards in the process.

"You truly do have darkness in your eyes." William spoke darkly, his eyes narrowing as he took a step forward, arms outstretched.

"Stop! Halt your actions!" William's voice echoed, strong and commanding, the knights pausing to look at their Duke. Silas raised his head, lips moving in silent prayer as he looked the man, the scene reminding him of The Rapture from the Bible.

"My good people, that man by law should be put to death for high treason, as you all know. However, that man is not our enemy, no. Our enemy, I fear, is one of our very own! The enemy of the People-every man, woman and child be it noble or peasant-our enemy is the very one whom had sentenced our Duchess to death and framed this knight!" William paused, the crowd seething like an ocean, digesting the words, testing for deceit.

"That man that you have bound, however, will not go unpunished. Sir Adler, you are found guilty of high treason and allowing the Satanist to run free. As punishment, you shall be sentenced to death!" William ordered, the crowd cheering. Silas was sullen as he failed to hide his shame, his heart breaking upon seeing the horrified and hopeless expression of his father.

"However," William paused. "Due to this young knight's dedication to my daughter I believe a lesser punishment in is order. What say you, knight?" William asked, Silas looking up at the man, mouth agape.

"I...but my Duke...I have failed both you and your daughter. My life should end with hers. I believe death should be my punishment." Silas stated, his father shaking his head and releasing a long sigh, raking at his eyes with his nails.

"My beloved child had asked mercy for you when you were attacked, and you returned that gesture of kindness in order to save her life. I believe I would be properly honoring my daughter by sparing your life." William spoke, clearing his throat.

"As an act of mercy bestowed upon by my daughter, you, Sir Adler, are now exiled!" William spoke gravely, the knight's breath stilling before slowly exhaling, voice shaken.

"E...Exiled?" Silas asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper in disbelief. The young man's limbs felt heavy, as if he had just fought a battle in plate armor.

"B-But my Duke...I-I cannot. I have only ever left Bavaria once to travel to Rome at your behest and only on several occasions had left Regensburg." Silas quivered, knees buckling underneath him.

"Your statement is true, but I shall not allow your father to share the same grief as I. He is a good man, and has served me for many years until you had taken his place. You should be proud, for you have served me with the same vigilance, honor and loyalty as your father before you."

"Then...will you allow me one last act of mercy, kind Liege?" Silas asked, shrinking into himself, feeling embarrassed and vexed. He was in no position to ask for more, yet it was something he needed.

"What is your desire?"

"M...My family. I wish to say good-bye." Silas spoke softly, William nodding.

"What in God's name are you doing?!" Eamon hissed, no longer willing to watch from the sidelines. How dare his own damn brother interfere with his plans?

"I cannot bear to end the life of one who is the last link to my daughter. He himself is like a son to me." William admitted, his voice low and grave like a dying stream.

"Fine, then. Let the boy go. Both he and the Maleficarum will be hunted like animals before the might of my army."

"You shall do no such thing. The slaying of my daughter and grandchild shall not go unpunished." William hissed, Eamon grunting in response.

"Such a petty threat. Kill me on battle, if it pleases you. I know you cannot end your own brother's life just as you could not watch the axe cleave the head from your daughter's shoulders. You are too much a coward." Eamon spoke, calm, yet a detectable poison underneath.

"Only cowards murder innocents in cold blood."

"We shall see." Eamon replied, eyes cold and calculating as he took his leave.

William turned his attention back to the knight, Silas' father approaching from the crowd. The man pushed weakly through the rioters with a heavy heart.

The father approached his son, grey eyes faded with color studying every feature on his flesh and blood, mouth a slack in disbelief. His eyes shone with tears not yet fallen, face gruff and beard unshaven.

Silas looked at his farther, eyes red and swollen from a blow to the face, lips pierced into a sullen frown as blood lightly touched his lips.

"Forgive me, Father." Silas spoke softly, casting his gaze elsewhere as tears began to fall down the older man's face, the floodgates breaking.

"Do not ask for my forgiveness. You need not ask." The man, Carl Adler spoke, a soft sob escaping as his gruff hands clasped over his son's shoulders.

"Your eyes are broken. It pains me." Carl spoke, pain in his voice upon finding the light that had filled the young man's eyes had extinguished. His will to fight, to survive, was gone.

"I tried, Father. I truly did. Oh, do not judge me. Do not judge me!" Silas whispered desperately, beginning to sob as both men embraced each other as strong as a father and son could.

The pair parted, regretful and hesitant as the father clasped his kin's shoulder.

"The right of judgement belongs to The Lord, not I." The father spoke, lips pierced together in a facade as he tried to smile.

"I am afraid, Father." Silas admitted, the older man producing a weak laugh.

"Son, without fear we cannot find courage." The man spoke, his hand retreating to his side.

Silas sighed, sorrow in his eyes as he spotted the young Page, standing hesitantly at the edge of the crowd.

"Come, Berend. Say farewell to your cousin." The old knight spoke, the small boy approaching them slowly.

"Are you really leaving?" Berend asked, Silas nodding slowly.

"I fear I am, child."

"But...who will train me? You will come back won't you, Silas? Regensburg is your home!" Berend cried, dismayed and confused by his cousin's sudden departure. Silas paused as he looked off to the side, lips pierced into a thin line before looking at the boy.

"If...God wills it, Berend. I pray that He does." Silas answered, tears slowly falling down the Page's round face.

"Come to me. Shhhhh." Silas sniffed, kneeling as the boy ran into his cousin's arms, sobbing loudly.

"You will be an honorable knight one day. Someone who can correct the sins of the past, and restore our name to its former glory."

"Like you." Berend spoke, Silas falling silent as the man began to cry silently, shoulders heaving.

"No. Not like me. Not like me, Berend. You must restore what I have destroyed. I apologize for my mistakes."

"What mistakes?"

"Nothing, Berend. Do not pester your cousin."

Silas briefly pulled away, patting the Page's head as he smiled sadly, wiping his eyes.

"Live well, little one. Perhaps our paths may cross again."

Suddenly, the guards apprehended Silas, the man beginning to struggle in terror as he fought back.

"No! No, not yet! It is too soon!" Silas cried, Betend running after his cousin, reaching out for him only to be plucked from the ground by a knight.

"Silas!" Berend cried, tears streaming down his face as he struggled against the knight's grip.

The father watched helplessly as his son struggled to break free, shaken hands covering his eyes, the man unable to bear the scene before him. The knight screamed to be released, begged to be able to stay with his family and shouted curses at the man that murdered his Duchess.


	2. Dragon Hunter

**Ok, so here is the next chapter. Please note that I have nothing against Spyro or any of his friends. I own most of the characters in this story except Spyro and Cynder.**

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The sound of horse's hooves slowly hitting the dirt road seemed to echo, Silas riding the old stallion, head down and shoulders hunched in defeat. The noise of the soft, slow hooves hitting the ground seemed to match the knight's weak heartbeat. Every beat faltered as he moved farther from his lifelong home, Regensburg off in the distance.

The stallion snorted, breathing heavily, as if sensing the young man's distress. Silas gently patted the horse, feeling bone where muscle once was, the stallion no longer in his prime.

"Be at ease, Brago." Silas whispered in the horse's ears, which twitched at the mention of its name.

Brago moaned in response, as if replying. Sighing, Silas sat back, gently tapping the stallion in his flank with his feet, his spurs hacked off as punishment. His shield had been damaged as well, a hideous cut forever scarring his family emblem of a black and gold two headed eagle.

Brago's ears twitched as Silas let his companion lead him to wherever the horse pleased.

"Did you see how your rider fell? Did you see how the axe cleaved her head? You saw it, did you not?" Silas asked, his voice soft and hollow. It was his lady's horse that he was riding. It was undoubtedly meant as a last insult.

Silas shook his head, sniffing as he closed his eyes tightly shut before opening them, struggling to refocus. Tears began to well in the man's eyes as he began to sob quietly to himself. He swore he could feel her, clinging to him the same way she always did when they rode together, swore he could hear the gentle hitches between her breaths as she laughed. Just...happy. She was always happy with her friend and she loved him as much as he loved her. However, Silas feared that he loved her more than would be appropriate. He never dared show his true affections towards her. It was taboo. Lesser blood should never taint superior blood.

Silas turned his head sharply upon seeing a familiar woman, heart soaring with joy as he saw the white dress his lady often wore, her earthen hair spilling over her shoulders like a waterfall. She was behind a tree, as if hiding behind it, looking at the man. Perhaps the Necromancer had used his magics on her?

In haste, Silas ordered Brago to turn, the old stallion complying, his stride faster.

"M' lady! Ho-" Silas paused, eyes clouded with confusion as he found the woman no longer there as Brago halted, snorting.

Silas looked around, frantic as his breathing hitched. Brago's feet stamped the ground, sensing something that the knight could not.

"Ah...Anaya! Please, do not hide from me! I...I tried. Oh, Lord I truly did." Silas faltered, speaking more to himself with his confession, Brago moving side to side, as if wanting to flee.

Brago reared in panic, an adder moving among the leaves as the horse cried in terror. Silas screamed as he was thrown off his steed, hitting the ground roughly as the knight blacked out for several minutes.

The man groaned softly in pain, his eyes fluttering open to see the harsh sunlight break through the trees, the wind blowing gently as songbirds sang. Silas grunted, shielding his eyes, not yet having the strength to get up. As he uncovered his eyes, Silas was startled to see his lady's face in front of him.

"M...My lady? Why did you flee?" Silas asked, the woman's warm, beautiful smile turning into a frown, her blue eyes showing confusion.

"Have I offended you so horribly that you will not speak to me?" Silas asked, voice laden with hurt and shame. Anaya shot her slender hand up to her mouth to display her shock, eyes widening as they began to water, as if the woman was deeply hurt by her friend's assumption.

"Then why will you not speak to me?" Silas asked, Anaya shaking her head as a tear rolled down her cheek, Silas moving to gently wipe it away. Anaya smiled softly at his attempt, the young man confused and distressed at her lack of words.

"I do not understand. Please, speak to me. I long to hear your voice!" Silas spoke in haste, Anaya frowning once again as she shook her head sadly.

"Please. Please, I implore you. Please." Silas spoke, feeling the tears sting at his eyes, watching as Anaya gently brushed his blood laden hair away from his face, revealing a cut and dark bruise from where he had been stuck by a rock.

"I am sorry." Silas whispered, Anaya smiling sullenly as Silas tore his eyes away, looking back to find the woman gone. Startled, Silas sat upright, looking around desperately for his lady, his heart sinking in despair upon finding her gone again.

"Anaya? Where...Where have you gone?" Silas asked, struggling to get up, looking in every direction to find a trace of her only to find none. Struggling to breathe in his panic, Silas looked down at the ground, finding no disturbance in the soil where his beloved had lain.

Silas continued to search for any signs of disturbance, dismayed upon finding none, paling.

"No...no, no, no...oh, no!" Silas cried, falling to his knees as he started to tug at his own hair before releasing a loud sob.

"Please...do not let this my punishment! Do not torture me any longer! Anything but this!" Silas cried, thinking God must truly hate him.

Silas paused as he felt Brago begin to nip at his hair with his lips, Silas pushing the stallion away in agony.

"Begone, beast! Let me wallow in my misery lest you be the very curse that tortures me so!" Silas waled, Brago snorting as the horse nuzzled his rider's swollen face.

Silas gave up on pushing the horse away, instead wrapping his arms around his companion's snout, seeking some form of comfort even if it was from an animal. Brago was his only link to her now.

The pair stayed that way for several minutes, Silas releasing his hold as he patted the horse, Brago pulling away, ears twitching. Silas got back on his feet, slightly unsteady as he climbed on the stallion, Brago's wide eyes on the young man, as if looking out for him.

"Thank you, my friend." Silas spoke, gently hitting Brago's flank as the old stallion moved forward, the sound of his hooves hitting the ground slowly becoming a constant pattern once again.

The pair followed the road until they wandered upon a large farm some fifteen miles away, Silas raising an eyebrow upon seeing a minor lord out in the field. Embarrassed by his new status, Silas hoped the man would not see him as he rode by.

"You! Sir, knight! Could you be so kind as to spare a moment?" The lord asked, Silas paling as he turned Brago toward the man.

"If I may be so bold, why does a lord stand among his fields with the livestock when the serfs should be tending to them?" Silas asked, the lord sighing response.

"Ah, you can see my problem, friend? You see, something has been raiding my livestock in the fields, and my serfs are terrified to work the fields and livestock." The lord spoke, Silas pausing as Brago moved underneath him with impatience.

"What is this creature that is slaying your flock? There are many a beast here that would prey on them. Why do you not build a fence around your fields?"

"What good would a fence do me? Maybe if the creature was a wolf or bear, yes, but not this beast!"

"Then what is this creature, may I ask, my lord?" Silas asked, the lord shaking his head.

"You may laugh at me, good sir, but the serfs claim this beast is a dragon!" The lord admitted, embarrassed as he scratched his head, Silas void of emotion.

"I beg your pardon?"

"A dragon. You heard me right, boy." The lord repeated, adding. "The serfs claim they hear the wings from their quarters in the dead of night, the beast using shadow as its cover."

"But no one has seen this beast?"

"Nay. Well, now that you mention it, a little page boy that would go wander off in the woods to look for an occasional lost sheep would claim to see the beast flying over the mountains, deep in the Bavarian Forest." Silas looking behind him to see the forest shrouded in mist, only the peaks of the mountains visible.

"And...you would like me to go after this beast?" Silas asked, skeptical. Unlike Berend, he didn't believe in dragons and mythical creatures.

"If you would be so kind, yes, please! I do not care what you do so long as that beast lay dead and my livestock can be live in peace! Carry out this deed and you shall be rewarded!" The lord cried, eyes hopeful as Silas paused, strongly wanting to refuse the man's offer, but felt too much pity for him.

"Very well, my lord. I shall do this task for you, but I do not wish to be rewarded. That is my only request." Silas answered, the lord looking confused but didn't ask for the knight's reasonings.

"God bless you, knight! May the Lord watch over you!"

"And He you." Silas spoke, hitting Brago's flanks once again as the horse continued on their path.

By the time night fell Silas had found an inn by the name of The Tabard Inn. He paused, debating whether he should rest here for the night or sleep outside.

Deciding it better to go inside and not get stabbed and robbed by urchins, Silas tied Brago to a post, apologizing to his friend about leaving him in the rain that was slowly starting to fall.

Walking inside the Inn, Silas immediately became uncomfortable with the occupants in the room. They were loud, they smelled, and many were the type of urchins who would rob you blind.

Ignoring the drunk occupants, Silas made his way to the front of the Inn, several of them-both men and women respectively-were glancing at the exiled knight.

"You look like you've been in some trouble, friend." The Host spoke, cleaning a wooden mug with a dirty rag. Silas grimaced at that. It was just so different than what he was used too.

"You can say that." Silas responded, swearing he saw a woman in white within the bar, but when he looked saw no one.

"You al'ight?" The man asked, Silas clearing his throat, nodding.

"Yes. I have just had a long day." Silas replied, the man laughing.

"Haven't we all? Can I get you 'nything?" The Host asked, Silas pausing before shrugging his shoulders.

"Could you get me a bottle of mead, good man?" Silas asked, pulling out several coins from his purse to give to the Host.

"You don't have to be so mannerly, boy. We're hardly nobles are we?" The Host laughed, Silas laughing awkwardly in return, hastily opening the bottle and chugging it, the Host raising an eyebrow.

"I had a very long day." Silas explained, the man nodding.

"Trying to get drunk to forget?" The man asked, Silas shaking his head.

"No...when I get drunk I pass out." Silas responded, and within half an hour had gotten completely smashed, his speech heavily slurred and face flushed as he spoke nonsense, one minute ranting and raving, the next laughing and then sobbing like an infant for its mother. Whatever happened to this man he could only guess, but the Host couldn't help but feel pity for the young man.

Soon after, true to his word, the young knight suddenly fell forward with a thud, knocking over an empty bottle. The Inn fell into almost total silence. The Host picked up the bottle, noting that the knight had drank two in total within twenty minutes. The man smirked to himself as he saw the young man's hair plastered to his face as he snored softly.

Silas groaned, tasting vomit in his mouth as he sat slumped in his seat, holding his head in pain.

"Hey! Look who's up!" The Host greeted, smiling as Silas flinched in pain, the room spinning.

"Not so loud..." Silas groaned, the man frowning.

"Sorry, friend. I tried to wake you up but you were too far off in never never land." The Host explained, Silas waving him off as a group of men came in. Silas turned his head towards them, and even in his post drunken state could tell that these men were mercenaries. Their presence caused the hair on the back of his neck to rise.

"Good publitision, give my friends and I the best mead you have in this fine establishment!" The one that appeared to be the leader cried, the Host nodding as the men laughed and cheered, Silas burying his head in his hands.

"Drink up, men! For today we shall purge the sky-plague from these lands and collect our just reward!" The leader spoke, Silas lifting his head up upon hearing them mention a dragon.

Determined, Silas got up from his seat, wobbling as he almost fell back down but steadied himself as he walked over to the group of men.

"Pardon, sirs, but did I hear you mention a dragon?" Silas asked, his voice still slurred slightly as the leader nodded.

"You heard right, knight. A dangerous beast this dragon is, killing a local lord's flock."

"This lord...he has asked me to kill this beast as he had asked you, correct?"

"Yes! A just reward he promised to slay the creature."

"This beast sounds dangerous, do you not agree? I will offer you my aid to slay this pest, for I cannot do it alone, I fear." Silas asked, wobbling as the group of men burst into laughter, laughing at the young man as he flushed slightly with embarrassment.

"I'm afraid it will take more than drunken bravado to slay this dragon! Also, you will cut into our profits." The leader asked, obviously not willing to share the money.

"I have discussed the reward with the lord and have made it clear that I do not want to be paid for my efforts. I am honor bound to fulfill my promise whether I go alone or accompany you and your men. Whether this dragon falls by my blade or yours I shall not touch that gold." Silas countered, the leader mulling it over in thought.

"Very well. If you truly are a knight, you are experienced in all kinds of weaponry, yes?" The leader asked, Silas nodding.

"While I prefer a sword and shield, yes, I am experienced in all forms of weaponry."

"Good. How good are you with a bow?"

"I once killed a stag while riding on horseback through the forest with a clean shot."

"Impressive. Allow me and my men to get drunk a little, then we will be off." The leader spoke, Silas frowning as he retreated back to his former seat.

The group ended up drinking for two hours before deciding to leave, Silas struggling to sleep off his hangover, constantly being woken up by the loud men behaving like animals.

Half of the men couldn't walk in a straight line, and most fell as they walked out the door, unhitching their horses as Silas approached Brago, a bit tired, but wanting to leave.

Silas pulled out an apple from his pouch, Brago eating it as Silas climbed on his horse. Some of the men struggled to even get on their steeds. Most men didn't even have horses, and were forced to walk.

"What horse do you have there? It's nothing but a bag of bones! Perhaps we can use it to lure out the dragon?" A mercenary suggested, Silas' eyes narrowing at the man.

"He is an old friend. You shall do no such thing to this gentle beast." Silas spoke, Brago moving side to side once again, wanting to leave.

"Of course we won't. Come, men! We shall make our way to the Bavarian Forest and then to the beast's lair!" The leader spoke loudly, however, their progress was slow thanks to the drunken men stumbling and almost falling off their horses.

When the group entered the forest, it was thick with fog. Several of the men swore they heard roars in the distance or wings beating on the wind.

"The horses are nervous." Silas muttered, patting Brago as the stallion snorted, his ears twitching and breath ragged as he made moaning noises, his wide eyes looking at his rider almost in fear.

"They know we are prey here." The leader spoke, the fog causing the group to move slowly, their breaths visible.

"Do you hear anything?" Silas asked, the leader shaking his head.

"No. Why?"

"That is the problem. I hear no animals in this forest. It is here, I am sure." Silas answered, the leader motioning for the group to stop. The men listened intently for anything out of the ordinary. There was nothing but the sound of their breaths and the horses fidgeting, displaying their rising distress.

The horses suddenly reared and cried in panic as a roar filled the air, bouncing off the sheer mountain cliffs. Several of the horses broke into the forest in a blind panic, Silas struggling to control Brago as he ran in circles. The loud sound of wings in the sky became greater until it was right on top of them, but with the thick fog the men could not see the beast. The wings suddenly ceasing in sound as the earth seemed to quake from the creature landing, the beast out of their line of sight.

"Hold your ground! Hold your ground, men!" The leader roared, his horse backing up. The rider not allowing him to flee as the men readied their weapons.

"Steady. Steady, my friend." Silas whispered, Brago whining in terror, but obediently complied to his rider. Brago, however, continued to pace, fighting his instincts to flee.

Several men had fallen off their horses, the animals having fled in blind terror, their riders suddenly dazed and vulnerable.

The group turned every which way, unable to see the creature through the fog. Some of the men on the verge of soiling themselves.

A horse panicked and reared as a black dragon jumped over a boulder, ripping the rider right off the horse as the beast's wings knocked the horse to the ground. The steed twitched as blood squirted from its neck, and dragon's blade on its wing having sliced the neck to the bone.

The dragon hissed as it crunched the man in its jaws before throwing him against a tree, the man dead. The dragon reared, exposing its red underbelly as its slender tail twirled and knocked several men off their feet.

"Oh, Holy Mother of God...!" Silas exclaimed, eyes wide with terror as he watched the dragon bite a man on the shoulder that got too close, the man convulsing as he began foaming at the mouth, as if having a seizure before dropping to the ground, dead.

The leader forced his steed to charge at the dragon, slamming the horse into the dragon as it was knocked on the ground. It's wings flailing as the man swiped his sword at the dragon, tearing its wing.

The dragon sunk its jaws into the horse, the man falling off as the horse began to foam and convulse. The man quickly got up and retreated to a safer distance.

The dragon got up, blood staining its black and red scales as it hissed, wing dragging on the ground. Silas shook his head, kicking Brago to move the stallion forward, the horse rearing before charging. The dragon miniced the war horse, charging as well.

In fear, Brago turned to the side, the dragon striking only for Silas to bash the dragon's snout with his shield, several teeth embedded in his shield. The knight was almost knocked off Brago from the force. In terror, Brago lashed out with his hind quarters, the dragon grunting in pain as the swift kick broke its jaw. Silas continued struggling to keep his steed under control.

"Steady! Steady!"

The leader lunged at the dragon, the beast rearing up as it roared in pain, the blade digging into its slender flank. The man was flung back as the dragon's wing slammed into him, knocking him unconscious against a tree.

The dragon hissed, blood running down its jaw as it turned toward the lone knight and his steed. Most of the men were either dead, unconscious, or had fled from the terror before them.

"Lord...show mercy on these poor souls that have been sent to your Kingdom by this beast. And show me none for my failures, for I deserve no mercy bestowed upon you by your Grace if this is my time. Forgive me, Anaya." Silas spoke, courage filling his heart as he twirled his blade in his hand. Brago snorted, eyes wide in terror as he fidgeted.

Silas jabbed his steed, Brago rearing as he charged the dragon more more.

The dragon roared and reared, its talons outstretched as Brago reared and kicked in terror. The dragon slammed its body on top of the horse and rider as Brago fell down to the ground, Silas crying as he became pinned under the horse.

Dazed, Silas shook his head, finding it hard to breathe as he sucked in air, every breath bringing pain. Silas then noticed blood was dripping down his blade and that his sword had pierced the dragon's mouth and skull, killing it instantly.

Struggling, Silas pulled himself out from Brago, the horse groaning as the dragon lay on top of the stallion. Silas saw the pool of blood that was quickly forming under the pair, his heart skipping a beat in terror.

"Brago? Brago!" Silas cried, grunting as he struggling to push the dragon off his friend, succeeding only to have his heart drop at the sight.

"Oh, no...oh, Brago..." Silas looked in dismay, beyond crestfallen to see the old stallion had almost been completely gutted by the dragon's claws. The horse was breathing in low, shallow breathes, his eyes wide with terror and agony.

Silas fell to his knees in front of the stallion, petting the horse gently to try and calm the animal in his passing.

Silas looked at the dragon, anger building up in him as he roughly ripped the sword from the dragon's gaping maw before turning his gaze to his companion.

"I am sorry, Brago. But now you can be with your true master. Be at peace, my friend." Silas whispered sadly, poising his blade over heaving chest of the stallion before running it into the horse. Brago make what sounded like a last, struggled gasp before ceasing to breathe. Silas couldn't help but sob as he tore the sword clean out, leaning heavily on his sword at the loss of his sole companion.

His sorrow quickly turned to rage, his breathing quickening in wrath as he got up and damned the dragon, stabbing the beast with his sword over and over again, hacking at its talons that had murdered his friend. The very talons that had now torn the link between the knight and his Duchess.

Silas threw his sword to the ground in rage, kicking the corpse as he cursed and continued to damn the beast. The young man fell to his knees, losing all his strength as quickly as it came, now struggling to breathe as he started to cough, blood falling onto the soiled ground.

The leader got up, stunned to see the beast dead and the young knight kneeling among all the carnage.

"You slayed the dragon?" The man asked, Silas ignoring him as he spat blood on the ground.

"My name is Mordred, knight. Have you heard of me?" The man continued to ask, once again being ignored.

"You should be honored to meet him. Since you impress me, you should feel honored that I ask for your name." Mordred spoke, Silas rising as he wrenched his sword from the ground, unsteady.

"You need not know my name. Go to the lord and tell him you have slain this beast for all I care! Keep your damned blood money!" Silas cursed in pain and rage, and sheathing his blood stained sword, walked deeper into the forest on the path.

"Very well then. To the victor goes the spoils." Mordred smirked, taking one of the dragon's talons still attached to a toe as proof of the beast's slaying.

As the sun began to set, the sound of wings beating in the sky sent most animals fleeing in terror, the fading light reflecting off of the dragon's beautiful purple wings and golden chest scales. But the dragon wasn't hunting. He was looking for his mate. She had gone hunting and had never returned.

The scent of blood filled the air, the male knowing he was close as he smelled his mate's scent, but terror quickly filled his being at so much blood being around his mate.

Finding a clearing in the forest, the dragon landed with a loud thud, the fog cleared as he followed the scent, his heart beating swiftly in terror upon seeing a human dead, ripped in half by a dragon's bite against a tree. His eyes widened in horror at the sight before him, blood and dead humans and horses littered the path, but his eyes ignored all but one body. In the center of the slaughter was the body of his mate.

"Cy...Cynder..." The purple dragon spoke, tears welling in his purple eyes as the desecration of his love. They had cut her beautiful talons off, and had severed her wing, her slender and graceful body now covered in blood.

"Oh, Cynder...no!" Spyro cried, nuzzling his mate as he lost all the strength in his body, and collapsed beside her lifeless body, draping his wing over her smaller frame as he sobbed. These humans had gone too far. Too far...

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**I felt horrible for Silas, Brago and Spyro. This chapter will most likely be the worse for tragedy and I honestly don't care if I get flames for this. You hate Silas? State that you hate him. Hate him for killing Cynder, for causing Spyro pain. He is a character with flaws, like any normal human being who is trying to just do the right thing. It happends and it is a part of life. Everyone lives just as everyone dies, even if it often is the wrong people.**


	3. Seeking Redemption

**Ok, so here is the third chapter! I honestly didn't like this one. It didn't give off the same vibe as the others, but I hope you enjoy!**

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Silas paused to catch his breath, leaning on his knees for support. The man panted in a slow rhythm as he looked from whence he came, the path that he had traveled now completely submerged in fog again. It was strange. It was almost as if the forest wanted him to get lost. The forest had been completely clear of fog when the sun was high in the sky.

Steadying himself, Silas forced his body to push forward. The young man's abdomen throbbed in a constant stabbing pain, Silas' breath hitching as his progress became poor. Any upper movement in his trunk was stiff and painful. Silas breathed through his clenched jaw as he almost lost his balance and fell, the pain becoming too great as he fell to his knees.

A coughing fit suddenly racked the knight's body, Silas coughing into his hands as blogs of blood coated his hands and knees. The liquid had even slipped through his fingers and fallen onto the hardened ground. Silas paused to catch his breath, struggling to breath as he wiped his chin, smelling blood in his nostrils.

"This is not good..." Silas muttered, spitting blood onto the ground as he struggled to get up. Silas grunted as he attempted to rise, the knight failing as he fell roughly on his knee.

In defeat, Silas shook his head, unable to move and at the mercy of whatever creature caught the scent of his blood. He had nothing left to give.

Gasping for breath, Silas looked up into the clouded sky, the faint light reflecting in his eyes. Seeing that there was nothing left, the man folded his hands together, bowed his head, and prayed.

The man's lips moved slowly, the knight in silent prayer as his eyes closed tightly and his breathing calmed. After a few minutes in prayer had passed, Silas opened his eyes, the young man refocused and at ease. If he died today then it was God's Will, and he was happy with that.

Spirited fueled, Silas looked forward and spotted what looked like the mouth of a cave up ahead. His heart quickened in fear at the thought of the cave belonging to a bear. If he had to encounter such a beast, his chances of survival would be slim.

Silas slowly unsheathed his blade, impaling the earth as he struggled to fully stand. Nodding in victory, Silas leaned on his blade, trying his best to keep his trunk still as he hobbled up the mountain slope.

As Silas hobbled closer to the open mouth of the cave, he couldn't help but have his heart beat swiftly in terror. The creature that may be hiding in the darkness was his enemy now, not a corrupt King.

The knight paused at the mouth of the cave, scraping his boot along the mouth as several loose rocks fell into the cave's depths. Judging by the sound of the rocks falling, the cave wasn't very deep, and he heard no movement within the cave. Cautious, Silas stayed completely still, holding his breath as he teeth began to chatter.

Upon hearing nothing, Silas released a slow, shaky breath, his sword arm quivering. Putting his free arm on the side of the cave's wall, Silas allowed the wall to guide him, noting how flat the cave seemed to be. There was no way this particular cave was made by man. It was too smooth, as if something constantly rubbed against the wall.

Unable to see anything, Silas stopped in his tracks and allowed his eyes to slowly adjust to the shadows. The young man focused on keeping his breathing under control, a hidden terror rising within his very being.

Walking farther into the cave, Silas had spotted what looked like a faint light source just around the bend. Bewildered, the knight approached cautiously, the small flame reflecting in Silas' eyes.

As Silas approached the flame, he noticed something move as he rounded the corner. The flame illuminated the beast's movements as the knight's eyes widened in fear.

Terrified, Silas gasped and slipped backwards on the slick rock, releasing a labored breath as his side felt like it was being stabbed. Fighting through the pain, Silas rose to feet, quickly grabbing his sword. The man's whole body trembled as he looked at the beast before him. It was a dragon.

The dragon flinched away from the human, releasing a weak hiss as it outstretched it's wings.

"Back, beast! Back I say!" Silas hissed, voice hoarse.

Silas approached, unsteady as the dragon shrank in on itself. It was then Silas lowered his sword cautiously and sighed. This dragon was no threat to him. It was terrified of him.

Silas held his hands up to show the beast he meant no harm before sheathing his sword.

"I cannot harm you, dragon. I do not have the heart to slay a creature that is of no threat to me." Silas spoke, watching the dragon intently for any sign of aggression.

Upon finding none, Silas slowly sat down, leaning against the stone wall.

Silas studied the dragon, entering another coughing fit as he coughed softly. The dragon appeared to be more full in size than the black dragon Silas had encountered earlier. Looking around, the knight noticed that there were no bones from its prey scattered around the cave. Silas pierced his lips together and nodded at the realization.

"You are stricken with plague, or do my eyes lie?" Silas asked, the dragon covered in dark blotches, as if ill.

"Feast on my corpse, if you wish to live. My hope is gone. And if you do not feed so shall yours." Silas spoke, the dragon staring at the knight with horror.

The dragon rose on all fours, walking toward the knight curiously. The beast sniffed, hesitant and fearful of treachery.

Silas moved his head to the side to avoid the dragon's rancid breath. He could feel the creature sniff his hair and nape. It's breath reminded him of the Necromancer. Both smelled the same.

Silas exhaled slowly, heart steeled as he awaited his death patiently.

"Please, dragon, send mercy unto me. Allow me to claim my love in death that I never could in life!" Silas cried, sorrow filling his heart as the dragon paused.

"Why do you falter? Do not delay my fate! My lady beckons me! Let me answer!" Silas whaled, the dragon looking at the young man with sadness, its eyes softening.

"Do you really want to die?" Silas' head snapped towards the dragon as he heard a soft voice speak, his body beginning to tremble.

"N...No! No! No, begone with your vile words! Begone with this torture, restless spirit! You would not speak to me before yet now you speak to me with mockery!" Silas cried, covering his eyes as he smacked his forehead roughly. She was there. Anaya was sitting just on the other side of the small fire, looking sullenly at her dear friend.

The dragon looked at the knight with worry, watching him cower in terror and agony. The dragon looked at the area the man had glanced at, but had found nothing there.

"I never intended to mock you..." The dragon replied, almost sadly. The dragon couldn't help but feel guilty about upsetting the human.

"Lies! Cruel beast! Cruel demon you are! You are not she, not my beloved, you foul beast that spews lies from Hell! You may wear her face, demon, but you do not possess her pure soul!" Silas cried in despair, violent coughs racking his body as blood fell onto the stone floor.

Silas looked up across the fire, seeing the woman sitting there. She seemed...crushed. Like his very words had cut through her heart.

"Why do you look at me so?" Silas asked, shaking. "Do not look at me! Begone from whence you came! I cannot take your looks of heartbreak!" Silas cried, curling into a small ball of shame. The sound of his struggled breathes and coughs made the dragon cringe.

"But there is no one there..." The dragon spoke, heartbroken at the sight of the human. The dragon got no response from the young man. The only thing it could hear was the weak prayers the human was reciting along with his sobs and occasional cough.

The dragon waited for several minutes as the human remained in that horrified state, his sobs and prayers eventually subsiding as he quieted. Silas slowly opened his eyes, his senses refocusing as he exhaled deeply. Slowly, almost painfully, the knight unravelled himself from his ball, sitting up.

"She...She is gone." Silas spoke, looking around. There was no sign of Anaya.

"Who is gone? There was no one here." The dragon spoke, Silas jumping slightly, startled.

"By God-! You-You can speak?! Impossible!" Silas cried.

"How? Why is it impossible for dragons to speak?" The dragon asked, Silas swallowing.

"I...apologize if I offended you, I...did not know..." Silas struggled, voice trembling.

"No. It's okay! Truthfully, I was more terrified of you!" The dragon spoke, laughing almost nervously, causing Silas to look at the creature in amazement.

"Truly? Then why did you not kill me when I was at my most vulnerable? That would have ended your threat and hunger." Silas asked, the dragon downcast, eyes drifting toward the flame.

"Because I just...couldn't. I don't like to kill my own prey." The dragon admitted.

"I see. You do not have the heart to kill just as I do not have the heart to kill you. You are killing yourself, you know that, yes?" Silas asked as the dragon nodded-and to Silas' amazement, produced a small tear that ran down its snout.

"Yes. I know. I don't want to die, but I can't leave to hunt." The dragon spoke.

"And why is that, may I ask?" Silas asked, the dragon hesitant before showing the human the horrid blotches on its scales. It was obvious that this dragon was sick with plague, just as the knight thought.

"Because I am ill. This disease is...is..." The dragon broke off, Silas looking on in pity. "It is growing under my scales. It hurts too much to move, therefor I can't hunt. It's...killing me."

"May I have a look?" Silas asked, the dragon nodding as Silas stiffly got up and approached the dragon. Silas inspected the blotches, the black substance surrounding the very base of the scales and spreading to others.

"W-What are you doing?" The dragon asked, fearful as Silas took out a small hunted dagger. The dragon began to flinch and move away in nervousness.

"I am ridding you of this ailment." Silas stated, eyes narrowed as the steel illuminated in the fire's light.

"No! L-Leave me be!" The dragon cried, panicking.

"Do you wish to die? Is that what you wish?! I cannot bear to watch another die while I stand idle! All I see is death! Death and lies! Death and blood! Death and betrayal! No more! No more shall death leave a trail of damnation lest it be my own!"

The dragon fell silent, quivering in terror at the human's wrath.

"I shall not let you die. You shall live. Will you allow me to aid you?" Silas asked.

"How will you cure me?"

"I am no healer, by far. However, I intend to cut the infected scales out. Please, stay still as much as you can. I will not cut deep. I promise."

The dragon whimpered as the cool blade touched its scales, the dragon soon crying as the blade cut into the infected pus and underneath the blackened scales. Silas was alarmed by how easily the scales peeled off once the blade slid under the flesh. The infection was loosening the scales and tearing it apart from the flesh.

"Are you well?" Silas asked, the dragon crying from the pain. It obviously couldn't take pain well.

"No..." The dragon admitted, sobbing as Silas cut off any individual scale that may have been at risk of infection. In a sick way, this reminded Silas of when he gutted a stag. The experience of skinning his quarry had made him able to swiftly cut the flesh from scales. However, he knew it was painful for the dragon, and tried to be as quick and precise as possible.

The black scales fell to the ground in heaps as blood dripped onto the floor. Silas frowned upon seeing the tender and bleeding flesh tainted with the infection.

"When did this start?"

"About two weeks ago." The dragon answered, fear and worry in its voice as it stumbled in place.

"Do you want to lay down? There is not much left." Silas asked, the dragon laying down slowly.

"It hurts..."

"I know. I apologize. You are lucky these infections are small." Silas spoke, reaching down on his belt to pull out a scarf and doe skinned canteen, the sack filled with water. Wordlessly, Silas soaked the scarf and dabbed the dragons' tender flesh with the damp cloth.

The dragon whimpered, uncomfortable as the human cleaned its wounds, the water running down its scales and cleaning the blood.

Silas continued to cut and clean the scales around the dragon's body, constantly apologizing for causing discomfort. The more pain the dragon was in, the more difficult it was for the knight to work. Though at times annoyed, Silas never once raised his voice at the dragon.

"There. I am finished." Silas spoke, tired as he looked down at the bloody scarf in his hand and frowned. The dragon sighed in relief, forcing itself to smile.

"Thank you. Thank you so much. I never thought a human would ever do that for me." The dragon spoke, Silas clearing his throat as he blinked the mist from his eyes at the memories.

"I...You are welcome. I apologize for my actions. Though they may have been uncalled for I...I did not want another to die."

"Don't be sorry. You saved me life! I could never thank you enough." The dragon spoke softly, and for the first time, Silas noticed the dragon had pink scales.

Silas sighed as he sat down slowly, nodding almost numbly as he stared at the cloth in his hands.

"Yes, well...my mother died from plague when I was young. I never knew her. All I ever knew about her was her name and that she was once a slave from Rome. The plague killed many others as well. My cousin had lost both of his parents. I just...could not stand to see another die from plague. Even if that other is a dragon."

"Ohhh! I'm sorry! That cloth, was that from your mother? I'm so sorry! I ruined it!" The dragon cried in dismay and guilt, Silas shaking his head as he laughed sadly.

"Oh, no. This scarf I bought while visiting Rome. I was...on a pilgrimage and I was always curious to see where my mother came from." Silas answered, struggling to rinse the blood off of the green scarf. The golden embroidery sparkled in the fire's light.

"Ohh, I see. My parents...well...they were killed by hunters when I was young. I don't know what happened to my siblings either." The dragon spoke, Silas nodding.

"I am sorry. I cannot imagine what life would be like with both parents dead. I apologize for my fellow's behalf."

"It's alright. You get used to it, you know? But, that scarf...it's pretty! Well minus the blood on it!" The dragon laughed nervously, Silas raising an eyebrow at it's behavior. It was almost acting like...a woman.

"Yes, it is."

"It...looks like a girl's scarf though. Do you wear it a lot?" The dragon asked, Silas hesitating, embarrassed.

"N...No. It is a...woman's...scarf." Silas mumbled, the dragon straining its hearing to listen to the human speak.

"Ohhh, so you have a mate?" The dragon asked, Silas shaking his head swiftly.

"Heavens, no! I...bought it...because I planned to give it to a woman...but I never did. I was too...scared."

"Scared? You weren't scared of bandits or me but you were scared of a girl?" The dragon asked, eyes wide in disbelief. Silas hesitated.

"Yes." Silas spoke. "She...was of higher blood than me. How long have you been living here?" Silas asked, wishing to change the subject.

"Too long. I was scared to leave because of hunters in the area. And...because I can't hunt. What are you doing here?"

"I was ordered by a local lord to slay a dragon that was slaying his flock." Silas admitted, the dragon's eyes widening in terror.

"Slay a dragon?" The dragon questioned, visibly shaking. "Did you ever...murder them?"

"No. When I found the dragon...it was already dead by mercenaries."

"So...you've never killed a dragon?"

"Never." Silas answered, the dragon on edge, its panic rising.

"Are the mercenaries still hunting? W-What if they come for me?"

"They will not come for you. You are of no threat to anyone therefore you have no price on your head." Silas answered, the dragon calming some.

"The dragon...what did they look like?" The dragon's voice faltered.

"Did you know them?"

"I'm not sure."

"Black. Black and red. A vicious dragon it was, judging by the blood spilt." Silas answered, the dragon completely freezing, a silent tear falling down its snout.

"I am sorry."

"I knew her. I knew her! By the Ancestors, they killed Cynder!" The dragon whaled, suddenly sobbing at the lose of its kin.

Guilt ripped at Silas' heart, unmerciful as the knight watched the dragon sob. Looking at the scarf in his hands, Silas sighed.

"I am sorry. I truly am." Silas spoke sullenly, placing his hand on the dragon's shoulder. The physical contact caused the beast to pause, its eyes shining. "They will not harm you."

"You speak as if you can make your words true."

"Because I know the words I speak are true. I apologize for acting so savage earlier. The memory of my failure still haunts me. But it give me resolve to not fail again. And if I must defend you from harm then so be it. I refuse to fail again." Silas spoke, pausing to cough slightly.

"I...I...thank you." The dragon spoke, shocked by the human's vow.

"May I have the name of the one whom I am defending?" Silas asked, the dragon nodding.

"I'm Ember." The dragon answered, smiling at the man.

"I thought you were a woman." Silas replied, laughing slightly before hacking. The coughs slowly subsided. "I am Silas Adler, m'lady. At your service."

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**I hope you enjoyed this chapter! If any of you were confused with Silas yelling at Ember it was because when he saw Anaya he believed it was her speaking to him, mocking him. And in this story I will not portray Ember as a slut or being overly annoying. The dragons are at least young adults in this story (and are about the size of a horse) and therefor are more mature and have simmered down. If any of you are interested on how Silas obtained that scarf and what he planned to do with it in detail, I may put it in a backflash. I had that scene written up a long time ago. Also, Spyro will appear once again, but I have no idea what will happen. Please review and give me your input! I would like to thank everyone who reviewed! Thank you!**


	4. Demon Whisperer

**Ok, so here is the forth chapter! This chapter is about the Necromancer that was seen briefly in Execution and Exile, and what had happened to him while Silas was fighting for his life. I think both characters will become main characters in this story since they are both highly involved. I'm still not sure yet. Either way, enjoy! Warning: hinted rape!**

* * *

"Oh, my love, please forgive me. I was not strong enough to save you." Rorek spoke softly, voice hoarse and cracked as he looked upon Regensburg. The town now seemed desolate and void of life, as if Judgment Day had come.

"Their souls be damned to Hell for this travesty! May they burn in Hell for murdering a mother and child! Blasphemers! Sinful bastards! And you claim that it is I who is the sinner, but my hands have never been tainted by blood!" Rorek cursed at the town in rage and sorrow, shaking his head as his eyes became wet and wild.

"Damnation! What God are you?! What God allows the murder of an unborn child still in its mother's womb?! What kind God promises eternal life to His servants yet rips life away in a stillbirth before it can even draw breath?!" Rorek cried, arms outstretched as he looked upon the Heaven's, as if awaiting an answer. The man could hear nothing but the raging of his breath and the soft wind. Listening, the whispers upon the wind that he had once heard were now gone. Even the spirits were silent.

"A savage, cruel, beastly God you are! I have ever been your servant and this is how you repay me? By destroying everything I held dear? By God, I swear that I shall not lay this to rest! I do not care if I must pass trials of fire and water, I shall bring back my beloved! I care not if I do not have your aid, Lord, I do not care! I do not need your aid after what you have done to me." The man spat, enraged and grief stricken. Finished on speaking with the Lord, Rorek shifted and looked upon the village once more.

"I wish you well my friend. I know not if you live, but I shall not let your sacrifice be in vain."

Pulling his familiar black hood up over his head, Rorek took a deep breath as the scent of death filled his nostrils. It was oddly calming. The smell was one of the few signs that marked something as his.

Making sure the red markings on his arms were not visible, Rorek sighed a deep, heavy sigh. The man paused, wiping his watery eyes with his gloved hands before walking onward. Traveling was no problem for the Necromancer. He rarely stayed in one area for more than two years, but Regensburg was one of the few exceptions. Regensburg was where his family had been born, and very recently had passed into time and memory.

Walking through the village, Rorek approached the familiar brothel that had become the closest thing to an actual home. Even the women were like a second family to him.

"No, I cannot leave. Not yet."

Rorek stood in front of the whore house, debating whether to go inside or not. Looking around, the streets were completely void of life. The occupants were no doubt watching the spectacle with his mistress' knight.

Rorek watched as a single chicken crossed the dirt road, pecking at the bugs on the ground. Aside from the chicken and bugs, Rorek was the only living thing in the streets.

Steeling himself, Rorek entered the whorehouse, immediately being assaulted by the thick stench of alcohol. Looking around, Rorek was slightly surprised to see the inn almost completely void of occupants. The only people that were there were the barmaids and roughly three drunken men.

"Rorek?"

Rorek looked to see a woman approach him, her brown hair short and slightly messy as it fell to her shoulders, blue eyes skeptical.

"Rorek, what are you doing here? I thought you were being executed." The woman asked, Rorek noting that the woman sported multiple bruises and bite marks. She even had a swollen eye.

"Vivica, are you well? You look...broken."

"Do not change the subject with me, Rorek. Were you or were you not sentenced to be executed today?"

"I was. They murdered the Duchess with child."

"With chi...it was yours?" Vivica asked, taken aback as her eyes widened in shock.

"Yes. The child was mine." Rorek nodded, the woman's eyes narrowing as her fists clenched in anger.

"Bastard!" Vivica spat, Rorek's head snapping to the side as spit flew out his loosely clenched jaw from a vicious slap.

"Lies are what you spew! You claim you came here for your daughter, that you want to be a better father, but there you go and make another bastard heir!" Vivica spat in rage, face alight and jaw clenched. Rorek slowly turned back toward her, scratches running down his cheek and jaw.

"Becoming a better father was my intention. It always was. I never planned this-for all this death! I came back to Regensburg for a reason. I came back for you, for our daughter. I wanted to change. To prove that I was a better man-to prove that I was willing to take responsibility for my actions. What I did to you-did to Anaya-that was not fair! Neither of you asked for a child! And I left. I left you with child because I did not care. But as I travelled, I began to realize my wrongs and guilt plagued my conscience. I could not just sit back and leave my consequences fully on one undeserving woman. So I came back. And with Anaya...I could not leave. I could not become that coward again."

"By feeling guilty and trying to become a better man you had left even more death in our wake. I don't frankly care how you escaped your death, so I won't ask. What I do want to know is how long are you staying here? Hiding in a brothel is only safe for so long."

"I will not tarry here, it is too dangerous. I am putting you all in danger."

"So you came here to say farewell? How sweet." Vivica spoke, Rorek noting the slightest hint of sarcasm in her voice.

"If you want Sophia she's in the back. I think she would like to see her father one last time." Vivica spoke softly.

"What is wrong?" Rorek asked, noticing something off in her voice.

"My boy, Corin. He's been...He's just so...different. Ever since you came, his personality just changed. He became...angry and cold. And I noticed a lot of his hostility is directed toward Phee-Phee. I know raising children in these conditions aren't good for them, but I can't do anything, Rorek! I have no money, no property! I can't give these children the life they deserve and Corin is becoming worse! I think...I think he is jealous of Phee-Phee. Because his father...never came back for him like you came back for Phee-Phee."

"Would you like me to speak with him?"

"No...I...I believe he is fine. Just go speak to Sophia." Vivica answered, Rorek gently touching her arm as he passed.

Ignoring the few drunken men, Rorek made his way to the back of the brothel in a spare bedroom, seeing the child in a bed. Moving carefully across the creaking floorboards, Rorek stood above the sleeping child, the girl's blonde hair wrapped in pigtails. Sighing softly, Rorek kneeled down next the bed, watching his daughter as she slept.

"Sleep in the arms of the angels, dear." Rorek whispered softly, gently brushing the stray strands of hair from Sophia's face. Leaning over the girl, Rorek pressed his dry, cracked lips gently onto her cheek.

"Farewell, my darling angel." Rorek spoke gently, noticing Sophia's blue eyes flutter open.

"Daddy?"

"Hello, Phee-Phee."

"Daddy!" Sophia cried, jumping up and wrapping her arms around her father, Rorek doing the same. "I missed you, Daddy!"

"And I you. Did you sleep well?"

"Mmmm hmmm!" Sophia nodded, nuzzling her father's chest.

"Mother treating you well?"

"Yes, Daddy! Will you be staying? We can go down to the lake and look for fishies, or skip rocks, or-"

"Sophia." Rorek spoke, the firmness in Rorek's voice causing the young girl to look up at her father.

"Did I do something bad?" Sophia asked, tears welling in her eyes.

"No, darling. I just cannot stay. I am sorry."

"Oh..." Sophia muttered softly before adding, "But you will come back, won't you Daddy? You always come back for me and Mommy!" Sophia asked, eyes glowing with hope.

"I do not know, child." Rorek sighed, keen eyes spotting something underneath her worn clothes. Pulling up her sleeve, Rorek's heart dropped upon seeing a bruise on the child's thin arm.

"Are you getting along well with Corin?" The man asked, his fatherly instincts telling him something was wrong when the girl hesitated to answer.

"Sophia. Look at me." Rorek ordered firmly, the young girl looking at her father, eyes fearful and uncertain. "You can tell me."

"He..." Sophia faltered, hesitant. "Corin likes to play games with me when Mommy is gone. But I don't like to play them! They aren't fun! They hurt, Daddy!" Sophia cried, tears falling from her round face as her father paled. Rorek numbly stared at the girl, his hands shaking in growing anger as rage began to overtake him.

"Sophia, does Corin...does he..." Rorek faltered, struggling to speak the question he dreaded to ask, dreading the answer. "Does he...touch you where you pee?"

Sophia nodded.

Screaming in rage, Sophia cried as her father violently got to his feet and walked out the bedroom. The man frantically paced around the inn.

"Ohhh, no! No, no, no, no, no,! _NO_! _NO_!"

"Rorek? Rorek, what's wrong? Calm down!" Vivica rushed toward the man, Rorek's face alight with rage and tears that had not yet fallen.

"You _knew_! You _knew_! You _knew_ yet you did _nothing_!" Rorek screamed shrilly at the woman, pointing in rage as he shook.

"I couldn't stop him! I couldn't! I did everything!"

"Not enough! You did not do enough! Miserable wench you are! Miserable!" Rorek spat, several barmaids fleeing in terror as several drunk occupants cheered the verbal fight on.

"Do you think I wanted this for my child! For my daughter-for my children! No! I tried everything within my power when _you_ weren't there! We were fine without you! Ever since you came back my Corin changed! He's not the sweet little boy he once was!" Vivica cried, tears streaming down her face as she covered her mouth.

"Your bastard son tainted my daughter! His soul is as black as sin!"

"And you are no different with your honey laced venom! Lies!"

"I came back! I came back for my child while your son remained a bastard! Do not say he and I are the same for we are not!" Rorek roared, the sound of a door opening barely catching the pair's attention as Corin walked inside.

"Mother, is something..." Corin's eyes widened as the hair rose on the back of his neck. "You...You are that man! What are you doing here? Begone!"

Rorek's green eyes narrowed darkly at the boy, and without thinking attacked. Vivica screamed as Corin was knocked to the ground, Rorek mercilessly punching and kicking the downed boy.

"Stop! Rorek, Stop! My baby!"

"Bastard! Heartless bastard you are! She is just a girl!"

In terror, Corin curled up into a small ball, crying from the blows. Vivica threw herself at the crazed man and wrapped her arms around him, struggling to restrain him.

"Rorek! Rorek, stop! You're _killing_ him!" Vivica cried shrilly, Rorek breaking her grip. Screaming, Vivica was pushed against the wall, her head smacking into the wood as she slumped down in a daze.

"I will _kill_ you!" Rorek screamed in rage, pulling out a small dagger, its poison long gone as he went to plunge the blade into the boy's chest.

Screaming in anger, Rorek dropped the small blade as it clanged and skidded across the floor, his arms locked in place as a drunk occupant subdued him.

"Let me go! Let me go, you ungodly bastard!" Rorek screamed, kicking violently as he wriggled around. Rorek slammed his head into the man's nose, the man letting Rorek go as he ran for the knife resting on the floor. Before Rorek could bend down to get the knife, he was body slammed by another burly man. The impact sent the lean Necromancer flying as he knocked multiple chairs over. Before Rorek regained his senses, he was already lifted up almost single handedly and subdued.

"Basta' broke meh nose!" The man with a now broken nose cried, the man that was still sitting at his seat laughed as he continued to drink. Some alcohol squirted out between his teeth and onto the table.

"You a'ight, lady?" The man holding Rorek asked, Rorek still struggling violently as Vivica struggled to her feet, blood running down her temple.

"Oh, Corin! Oh, my poor boy! Are you alright?" Vivica asked in worry, kneeling down as Corin lay in a pool of his own blood. The boy was shaking, and refused to answer his mother.

"What have you done to him?! Get out! Leave, and never come back!" Vivica screamed, Rorek being thrown out onto the street, his dagger following shortly after.

Rorek heard the door violently slam behind him as he struggled to get up. Grabbing and sheathing his dagger, Rorek looked back at the sign of the whorehouse. The Harlot's Inn. Fitting.

"Vivica?" Rorek asked, trying to open the door only to find it locked. "Vivica! I know you can hear me!" Rorek quieted, listening to the soft sobs on the other side of the door. She was just on the other side.

"Hate me, if you wish. I will not apologize for my actions, for they were just. However, I have one request, if you wish to hear it." Rorek spoke, pausing for several seconds. All he could hear was the woman's crying, but she wasn't leaving.

"What?" The woman from the other side of the door asked softly. Rorek barely even heard her speak.

"Protect Sophia from Corin, and give her my love."

"I...I will..." Vivica spoke softly, both falling silent for several minutes.

"Rorek?"

"Yes?"

"I'm sorry it had to be this way."

"As am I, dear. As am I."

"Rorek?"

"Hmmm?"

"...You're not coming back are you?"

"I fear not. If I am, I do not foresee it in the near future."

"...What do I tell her? She will be crushed."

"That I am dead. Tell her that I am dead." Rorek spoke, the pair falling silent once again.

"I apologize for making everything worse." Rorek spoke softly, leaning against the door.

"It's alright. You tried. You came back." Vivica spoke, her hand resting on the door as she smiled sullenly.

"I hope your future is brighter than mine, and that you find a man that deserves you." Rorek spoke, hearing the faintest laugh behind the door.

"Don't get all morbid on me. I hate it when you do that." Vivica stated, sniffing as Rorek chuckled.

"It is true." Rorek muttered softly. "There is no future for me here. Please, protect Sophia from me, from my legacy, from my horror. That is all I ask."

"I shall. Come back, when all this is over."

"I fear I will gaze upon this town for the last time. Farwell, Vivica."

With a heavy heart and broken soul, the man trekked among the familiar grounds surrounding the small town. Approaching the cemetery, Rorek make his way up the familiar hill toward the cursed tree overlooking the graves. The dead tree was large, its branches outstretched that had once served as the gallows. Occasionally, it still did.

"Death summons thee. Unburden thy sorrows and allow thy aid. Show me what I seek and receive thy wish." Rorek spoke, waiting as blood slowly began to seep from the bark of the tree.

Rorek winced as he began to hear the swinging of the rope, the struggled gasps and breaths from those long dead. He could hear their pleas being whispered through the branches, like the claws of death.

Rorek closed his eyes, seeing visions that were not his, seeing through the eyes of those who had fallen, feeling the snapping of the noose breaking the neck, feeling the fight to breath.

"Who are you?" Rorek asked, feeling the tightening around his throat as he struggled to ignore it. Calm. Be calm and show no fear.

Slowly, names began to show within the blood, names the man did not recognize.

"This is not what I seek. Tell me, did the Duchess pass over?" Rorek asked, the spirits refusing to cooperate upon showing the man what they knew.

"You shall not get your wish until you show me what I seek." The man stated, voice firm. Slowly, the names disappeared and faces within the blood began to take shape. They all seemed to be screaming in agony.

"No! Show me what I seek!" Rorek hissed, eyes becoming wide as he saw a dragon like head form within the blood, its eyes pure black.

"No..." Rorek paled, showing the slightest hint of terror as the spirit roared and lunged, knocking the man off his feet as a scream tore through his throat.

Writhing in pain, Rorek hissed as his eyes rolled back into his skull, hands clawing at the ground in agony.

"Get...out of me! OUT!" Rorek screamed, back arching in pain as his body twitched violently.

"I...command you...BEGONE!" The man hissed shrilly, shooting up as his body ceased to shake, Rorek breathing in labored breaths.

"Oh, no..." Rorek groaned, struggling to get up as vomit suddenly made its way passed his lips.

"Damn it...I am such a fool..."

Shakely, Rorek got to his feet, feeling violated as he knew the demon was inside him somewhere. He could feel it snake around his very soul.

"Damn you accursed demon!" Rorek spat in rage, his body burning as he felt the beast try and take control. It couldn't. It was too weak from the possession to try so soon.

"I must find a priest before this demon takes control." Rorek muttered, feeling the beast tug at its restraints.

"**Foolish mortal...you know not what you have** **awakened.**"

Rorek heard the unnaturally deep voice of the demon, and focused on blocking the beast completely from his thoughts.

"**Your soul is heavy with sorrow and rage. You watched...helplessly...as your mate was murdered before your very eyes. And your rage overtook you then you found out the terrible truth with that boy. You wanted to kill him!**"

"You speak lies, damned spirit!"

"**Lies? Hahahahaaa! How can I speak lies if it is the truth? Before you knew it you had that blade poised over the boy's chest! Ready to pierce his beating heart!**"

"No! I am not a murderer! Stop searching through my mind!" Rorek cried in dismay, his head pained as the demon shifted through his memories, through his thoughts.

"**You are a creature that lives on death! Using death, you create terror, and when you create terror, you control others. You hunger for that, don't you? Power...desire...vengeance? You hunger for more!**"

"No! I have changed! I am not that man anymore! Begone, demon! Leave me be!" Rorek commanded, hearing the deep voice laugh.

"**Leave? Hehehehe! I can never leave! Just as I can never die! My spirit shall return to the earth, and the cycle shall begin anew! I must say, not many have the will to resist my corruption. You are strong for a** **human**."

"You are too strong to be a mortal spirit...you seem more like a demon, but I can sense that you are not. What are you?"

"**Hmmmm? You need not know anything save for my name. I belong to an ancient race that inherited this world long before any humans existed on it. A world that I sought to destroy.**" The demon spoke, Rorek's eyes widening at the realization.

"A...A dragon?"

"**Heheh, you are a smart one! As for my name...it is one that you shall learn to fear along with the whole world! You shall learn to fear the name Malefor!**"

* * *

**Well, Malefor was kind of randomly put in there, but I needed another antagonist other than good ole' Eamon. If any of you are confused for the history of Vivica and Rorek let me just say this: Rorek was not cheating between the women. Phee-Phee(who is seven years old) was made as a result of prostitution(as was Corbin, her older half brother) and Rorek left Vivica to fed for herself and her kids. Later, Rorek felt guilty and decided to be a man. So he returned to Regensburg to track down his kid, and started building up a friendly relationship with Vivica. Corbin(who is roughly twelve) became jealous of Phee-Phee because her father returned, while his never did. As a result of growing up in a whorehouse, Corbin witnessed things that would be inappropriate for most children to see at that age, and mimicked what he saw the adults do with Sophia(who had no idea what it was, obviously). While in Regensburg, Rorek had developed a romantic relationship with Anaya, later producing another bastard child. Vivica was enraged at Rorek because while he told her he wanted to step up to the plate and be a father he's off having another illegitimate child, kind of defeating his purpose with Phee-Phee.**


	5. Healing Scars

**Woo! Fifth chapter! First of all, I apologize for the chapters being extremely tragic and full of angest! This chapter is mainly comical relief cause I don't want to upset you poor readers. Unless you like tragedy. I personally do. Either way, enjoy! Also, Happy Easter, everyone! :)**

* * *

Silas grunted as he struggled to drag the stag uphill, the young man pausing to catch his breath.

"This is ridiculous!" Silas spoke, his heart pounding wildly as the young knight focused on his breathing. Looking at the bow in his hand, Silas was almost ready to abandon the weapon and start dragging the deer with both his hands. His shoulder was sore from the strain.

"Why can not her lair be downhill?" Silas asked to himself, beginning to sweat as he tried to move slowly as to not irritate with lungs.

After dragging the deer uphill at a painful rate, Silas eventually got to the mouth of the lair. Sighing in relief, a smile lighted Silas' face. Pushing the stag down the mouth of the cave, Silas watched as the deer rolled down in an almost comical fashion, legs stiff and tongue hanging out.

Ember raised her head as she heard the noise, her eyes shining with joy as the human amazed her yet again.

"Oh, Silas! You didn't have to do that! Thank you so much! I hope it wasn't too much trouble." Ember spoke, Silas heaving the body towards Ember, the deer landing in front of her with a thud. It took several seconds for Silas to regain his breath.

"Trouble? Oh, no trouble. Though it would be more of a convenience for your lair to be downhill than uphill. I almost collapsed dragging your meal up here." Silas spoke, sitting down as he proceeded to take off his chest plate armor, a bit awkwardly from his stiff trunk.

"I can finally breathe!" Silas commented, smiling as he set the piece of armor next to him. Slowly, Silas worked on unstrapping his arm and leg plate armor, revealing the chainmail underneath. The chainmail clinked together as Silas took it off, folding the chainmail in a neat pile next to his armor. All he had underneath was a simple tunic and trousers, several areas stained with grease from the armor and perspiration.

Ember starred in curiosity at the knight. Even without his armor on, the human still seemed quite large. She could tell that he was good physical condition.

"How can you even move in all that armor?" Ember asked, Silas smiling at the dragoness.

"You get used to it. I can move just fine in full plate armor."

"How much does your armor weigh? It looks heavy."

"It depends on the make, but I believe mine is about eighty pounds. I know some knights have sixty pound plate armor while other have a hundred." Silas answered, Ember's mouth a gap.

"Wow! How did you get that strong?"

"H-How? Well, I am sure I am not the strongest...but I was trained at a young age. My training actually started when I was seven years of age."

"Truly? What did you do?" Ember asked, blowing fire on the carcase, the smell of burnt flesh rising in the air as Silas jumped, startled.

"Ohh, my! Watch where you spew your flame! You could have burnt my eyebrows off!" Silas warned, coughing from the horrid scent. Ember smiled sheepishly at the man.

"Sorry."

"Now...what was I going to say? Oh, yes! My training! Well, in my first seven years I was a Page. I really didn't do much but take orders from the adults and act like a servant. When I turned fourteen I became a squire and aided an actual knight. I would spar with him, fit his armor, tend to his war horse, attend court...and aid him in small battles. Oh, and I studied history, and several languages like English and Latin."

"So English is not your native tongue?"

"No, German was originally. I take it English is your mother tongue, yes?" Silas asked, Ember nodding.

"Yes, it is. How did you learn English?"

"I found books in the castle's library and taught myself. I thought I would never learn English, to be honest. It was harder than any physical training I ever took. I do not mean to offend you, but...how did you learn to speak English?"

"Me? I...It was just something that was passed down from generation to generation. I know we used to have a written language, but I think that is destroyed. The books I mean. The ones that told our history." Ember answered, watching the stag burn.

"That is unfortunate. I am sorry."

"Oh, don't be! You say sorry for everything!" Ember playfully snapped, her tail wagging almost like a dog's.

"I am so...nevermind." Silas muttered, Ember laughing.

"I trained my human well."

"Oh? I doubt that. The knights said I was the worse Squire in the history of Regensburg. Many nights I would be at the altar to pray, but sometimes I would go there and just stand in the middle of the room, listening to the silence...and then I would open my mouth and scream just to see if anyone was there! Hahahah! Oh, the priests hated me for that. They actually thought someone was getting murdered once!" Silas laughed, Ember giggling as well.

"Really? What else did you do?"

"Hmmm...well...not much really. I was raised with the Duke's daughter, so she and I were constantly getting into trouble. She was actually one of the reasons I wanted to learn English, and she helped me too."

"Awwww! Does Silas have a wittle crush?" Ember asked, teasing as Silas redded.

"No!...yes." Silas muttered, struggling to push the thought that she was gone out of his mind.

"Hahaha! I love how you can't lie!" Ember laughed, the deer done burning as Ember glanced at it, hesitant.

"You can eat. Do not let me stop you." Silas spoke, Ember licking her jaws as she daintily tried to eat without making herself look like a pig.

"Why do you eat so slowly? I thought you would inhale it." Silas stated, Ember pausing as she swallowed.

"Don't judge me! I don't want to embarrass myself!" Ember stated. "Don't you ever try to act your best when you eat in front of someone?"

"I do not eat in another's company. My eating habits are terrible. One time, I was eating in front of Anaya-it was pork soup, I might add-and I laughed so hard that soup came out my nose. It was embarrassing." Silas stated, chuckling at the memory. He could hear Ember try to stifle her laughs.

"Oh, by the Ancestors! What did she say?" Ember asked, her body rocking.

"She laughed so hard she started choking on her own spittle. I do that sometimes and I feel like a dunce. I will be walking down the street and I just start choking and people stare! Hehehe! My father pretended not to know me once." Silas laughed, Ember crying from the amount of laughter.

"Oh, I do that too! One time, I-GUUUURRRPPP!" Ember belched loudly, and embarrassed, covered her mouth with her paw, eyes wide as her face heated. Silas stared silently at the dragoness, mouth agape in pure shock. The loud belch resounded off the walls and out the mouth of the cave.

Several seconds of pure silence with by, nothing but the soft crackling of the fire making noise. Suddenly, Silas twitched, and his breathing began to hitch and increase, almost as if the knight was struggling to breathe. The man's shoulders began to heave violently as a smile appeared on his face. With struggled breathed, Silas pointed at the embarrassed dragoness...and laughed.

"Pffff! Mother of God, I could never compete with that!" Silas laughed loudly, holding his stomach as he coughed occasionally, tears running down the man's eyes. Ember shrunk into herself, hiding behind her wings in embarrassment.

Silas' laugh slowly turned into coughs, and soon, the young knight was overcome by a full on coughing fit.

"Oh, my-Silas! Silas are you okay?" Ember asked, concerned over her new friends as the man began to cough up blood. Silas waved the woman off as his coughs slowly subsided.

"Are you okay? You sound like you are dying!"

"I may very well be. Only God knows that answer." Silas reasoned, lifting up his tunic to reveal a large bruise on his side. The large black and blue seemed red in some areas.

"Ancestors, that looks horrible! You should have never gone hunting with that wound!" Ember scolded, eyes laden with guilt and worry.

"You would have perished if I had not. I would not allow that to happen. And it is better than waiting to die." Silas spoke, pulling his tunic back down as he smiled almost sadly at Ember.

"I do not mean to be rude, but what are these Ancestors you keep speaking of?" Silas asked, wishing to change the subject.

"The Ancestors are all the dragons of the past. They watch over us, and guide us, and grant us their strength and wisdom in our time of need. When a dragon dies they return to the earth, return to nature. We truly never die, we just...become one with nature and watch over the others." Ember answered, Silas staying silent.

"And you believe your parents are watching over you?"

"I do. As well as all my friends. Cynder, Flame..." Ember trailed off , voice faltering. Looking at Silas, Ember could tell he was curious, but the knight didn't dare ask out of politeness.

"Flame...he was going to be my mate. I loved him, and he loved me. He...saved me, died for me when hunters came. I tried to help, but I only got in the way. I was so scared I just...froze." Ember spoke quietly, soft tears rolling down her cheeks. Her eyes were like sparking diamonds in the flame. Beautiful, yet broken.

Silas bowed his head, covering his eyes as he folded his hands, fighting back emotions he fought to contain.

"I am sorry. I pray that you find solace with your friends watching over you." Silas spoke gently, still hiding.

"Are you crying because you failed? You said you failed once. Did you lose her?" Ember asked softly, Silas slowly looking up, eyes red rimmed and wet.

"Aye. I did. I failed her."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Ember asked, Silas shaking his head.

"Thank you, Ember, but no. The wounds are far too fresh I fear." Silas spoke, sighing heavily as he looked at the green scarf on the floor. To his surprise, most of the blood had gotten cleaned off.

"You were going to give that scarf to her? To Anaya?" Ember asked, Silas nodding.

"Yes. I loved my dear Duchess. When I saw the scarf...I knew I had to give it to her. When I came back to Regensburg, however, I was too late. She belonged to someone else. It pained me, and I was crushed. Upon hearing of my return, Anaya hugged and kissed me. She was so overjoyed to have me return to her and refused to leave my side. She had missed me dearly, just as I had missed her. I wanted to give her that scarf, desired to, but I could not. I was terrified, and I did not feel worthy of her affections if she had any for me."

"Why did you not feel worthy? You are a knight! Knights are important in human society, right?"

"They are, but...I...was hardly from noble birth. I would have tainted the bloodline." Silas spoke, embarrassed.

"So what if you aren't from an elite bloodline! You loved that girl! Boy, act like a man! Grrrrr!" Ember spoke, proving her point in a playful manor.

"But...I was not born a noble...technicaly...I was born as a slave. My mother was a slave, as you remember, therefore I was a slave to the owner." Silas admitted, more than embarrassed.

"That's horrible! Was your father the owner?"

"Heaven's, no! Slavery is an abomination! My father was in Rome at the time, and had fallen in love with a Roman slave. Somehow...he, I believe illegally, he brought my mother back to Regensburg where I was born. The slave owner had managed to track my mother down and wanted both mother and child back. My father would not have it, however, he only had enough money for one of us. He bought me from the owner and the man took my mother back to Rome. That's why I went to Rome. I was looking for a woman named Seraphina-my mother. I never found her, and my father said that when he went back to Rome to buy my mother she had passed from plague."

"That is horrible! I am sorry!" Ember cried, horror in her eyes.

"I thank you, thought it is unnecessary." Silas spoke, smiling softly.

"While in Rome...I find it ironic that I had almost followed in my father's footsteps."

"With a slave? No!" Ember replied, a large smile on her face as Silas nodded and smiled sheepishly.

"Ooh, yes. I met a young slave girl...and, well, I fancied her. She was an indentured servant-a sweet little thing. She was terrified of me!" Silas spoke, laughing.

"I can see why!" Ember giggled. "What happened?"

"I tried to court her."

"Eeewwww! Did it work?"

"No." Silas answered, laughing. "She wouldn't even give me her name!"

"I-I almost gave her Anaya's scarf too! I felt horrible about her not owning anything so I tried to give her that scarf. She refused, embarrassed beyond belief! You-You should have seen her face! Beet red!" Silas laughed, Ember giggling as well. "Ohhh, such a fool I was."

Silas calmed down, coughing softly as he looked at the scarf lying on the ground. Picking it put, the knight brushed the dirt off, smiling gently.

"Here. Give me your paw." Silas spoke gently, Ember confused at the request, by put her small paw in the man's warm hands.

Ember couldn't help but blush upon realizing that the human was tying the scarf to her wrist.

"There you go! It will serve you better than me!" Silas spoke, happily smiling as Ember looked at the scarf that was tied to her leg.

"Ohhhh! Thank you, Silas!" Ember gasped, feeling feminine at her new accessory. "You didn't have to give it to me though!"

"I always intended to give it to a woman. Why not a dragoness?" Silas replied, laughing. Ember giggled at his response.

"For that slave girl...did you ever say anything romantic to her?" Ember asked, giggling playfully. Silas blushed, and hesitated to answer.

"Ewww! Tell! Tell! Tell!" Ember chanted, her excitement growing.

"Alright! Sheesh! Let me think..." Silas paused in thought.

"Loquuntur verum de pulchritudinem. Angeli non habent nomina." Silas resided, smiling as Ember raising an eye crest in response.

"What?"

"They speak the truth of beauty. Angels do not have names. "

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**I hoped you all enjoyed this chapter! It has come to my attention that Silas and Ember appear to have some sort of chemistry between them(a reader had pointed this out to me in Redemption). But no worries! I do not plan for them to have a relationship(besides friendship), because that would be kind of weird. I would like to thank all the reviewers for giving back imput! I would also like to thank Riverstyxx for telling me to follow my passions and giving me the ambition to write this story! Please review and give me your thoughts! :)**


	6. Hidden Demons

**I apologize for this chapter for being so short, but I felt like it would be a good impact with Malefor messing with Rorek. And I honestly didn't feel like this one was going to be so long. Oh! And I forgot to explain in Demon Whisperer that Rorek has a sixth sense, so he can see spirits(at least in areas where death occurred most). So that whole tree bleeding and how "the rope was snapping" and stuff was never really happening. The bleeding tree was a giant symbol to represent the innocent people who were put to death over the years. So really Rorek would just be staring at the tree and talking to it in the eyes of a normal person. I would like to thank all who reviewed! You guys help me a lot! Thank you! :)**

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"Please, save my baby! I heard that you are the one to seek when one has fallen ill!" The woman whispered in haste, her grip on the hooded figure's arm like a vise.

"You shall only bring a harbinger of death into the very heart of your home."

"I care not what you are! Please! If there is any kindness in your soul you shall at least look at my child!" The woman cried, eyes wet and wild.

"Life cannot be mended from the dead." The hooded figure spoke, ripping his arm away from the woman.

"No! Please! My babe is stricken ill and the healer can do no more for my child! The-The priest says prayer will help, but I pray and pray to God, hoping that He hears my prays and cures my child but He does not! Please! I beg of you! Save my baby!" The woman cried shrilly, hair disheveled and face contested in grief as she fell to her knees.

The man looked down at the woman, face emotionless, hidden in shadow.

"Where is your child?" The man asked, voice smooth and calm as the woman's eyes widened.

"Oh! Oh, bless you! Bless you, kind sir!" The woman breathed in relief, tears running down her face as she kissed the man's gloved knuckles.

"Come! Come, this way! I fear time is of the essence!" The woman spoke with haste, rising from the ground as he pulled the man toward her small cottage.

"Come! He is in here!" The woman ushered, pushing the man inside. He tenses upon being touched.

Looking around, the man noticed the woman was literally dirt poor. The cottage only had hay to act as a floor.

"What are you doing standing around? Go!" The woman hissed, wedging the cottage's door closed.

The man walked into the single bedroom, seeing an infant wrapped in dirty blankets on the small bed. The woman walked in, eager, and fearful as she waited nervously.

Wordlessly, the man unwrapped the quilts housing the babe, alarmed as he felt the heat resonating from the small body through his gloves.

"Can you help him?" The woman asked, voice shaking as she fidgeted in place.

The man refused to answer as he looked upon the child, dark blotches tainting its body, the baby's breathing shallow and raspy. It sounded as the infant didn't even have the lung power to cry.

Putting the tip of his finger in the baby's mouth, the man inwardly sighed at the infant's lack of response to feed. It's mouth was terribly dry as well.

"I need water. Do you have any?" The man asked, the woman jumping at the broken silence.

"Yes! I do...is there anything else?"

"Soak cloth in the water-preferably something clean." The man added as a second thought, the woman practically running out the small room.

Looking to see the woman gone, the man looked down at the baby. It's eyes stated up at the man curiously, yet pain was present in it's eyes.

Checking for the mother again, and finding her still busy, the man gently wrapped his hand around the baby's neck. Gently, the man searched for a pulse, feeling one. It was oddly strong. How was that possible?

The man stayed like that for several seconds, the baby making soft noises upon bring touched. The man began to count the heartbeat in his head, counting down each beat before a sick snap was heard underneath his grasp.

Rorek shot up from his slumber, body slick with sweat and breath ragged as he looked around.

"Nothing...it was just a dream..." Rorek breathed deeply, his heart racing as he looked at his shaking hand.

"**A dream of remembrance...look at your hand. What do you see? Do you see a hand that has never been tainted with blood as you claimed to your mortal God, or do you see the hand of a murderer?**"

"Quiet, you! Stop haunting my dreams with past demons!"

"**A dark truth that you cannot burry even if the memory fades to the darkest corners of your mind. Admit it! You cherished the moments you counted down to that child's last heartbeat! You cherished ending it's pathetic life under the strength of your own hands! You were searching for a victim, which you found in a dying child..."**

"No! You are wrong, draconis! I saved that child from a cruel, slow death! I killed that child out of the mercy and kindness of my heart! A truly cruel and twisted man would have left it to die! To suffer!"

"**Ohhh? Is that so? Then what about that child's dear, sweet mother? You didn't kill her too did you? She saw you...standing over her dead offspring, your hand still clenched around its neck...**"

"I brought no harm to that woman! She screamed...and I made her unconscious to escape. I warned her! I warned her that she would only bring death to her home! I warned her that death could not bring life back!" Rorek cried in dismay, the wind moaning through the forest as the moon's light casted shadows on the earth.

"**Or so you thought...you could have killed her when you struck her. You never went back to check, did you**?" Malefor asked, chuckling.

"No, no, I...enough! I shall not listen to you any longer!" Rorek spoke, voice commanding as the wind began to die down, the forest falling deathly silent.

Rorek breathed slowly, looking at his still shaking hand.

"You are wrong. I never killed that child out of cold blood. I never harmed anyone in cold blood. That is not me. I am not that man anymore. I did it out of mercy..." Rorek whispered softly, looking up into the night sky as the stars reflected in his jaded eyes.

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**This chapter I actually had in a dream of years ago(Rorek killing the baby-not with Malefor). At first, I was rather shocked and disturbed by it, but as I looked into it more it wasn't that bad. I never got an evil vibe from it and truthfully it felt more sad cause the baby was dying from plague. So I personally view this as a mercy killing, and not in cold blood. Well, there's for my rants. Thank you for reading so far and please review! Thank you! :)**


	7. Broken Bonds

**Hello again! Here is the next chapter that I forced out on my sick day that prevented me from going to school. Either way, I hope you all enjoy and please excuse any grammatical errors. Thank you to all that reviewed! I recently put a poll up for fun about Hidden Demons. Feel free to vote!**

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"Are you sure you are ready?"

"Yes. I am." Ember replied, smiling as she slowly approached the mouth of her cave. Silas moved in step with the dragoness, his hand gently resting on her shoulder.

"Besides, I'm sick of hiding. I think soaking up some rays on my scales will do a girl good!" Ember replied, laughing softly as the human smiled.

"Indeed. The sun is a healer."

The pair moved to the entrance of the cave, Ember closing her eyes as she smiled softly, the dragon enjoying the sun's rays and songbirds singing. Silas waited patiently as the dragoness breathed deeply, releasing a sigh as smoke flowed from her snout.

"This is so beautiful! I've forgotten what the sun feels like, how cool the wind is...I even forgot how the birds sang."

"Now you can regain your memory." Silas replied softly, Ember nodding as she slowly made her way down the slope, movements stiff.

Gasping, Ember cried as she lost her balance on the slope, Silas rushing to balance her.

"Are you well?" Silas asked, concerned as Ember regained her balance.

"Yes...yes, I'm fine. Thank you." Ember replied, her scales gently flushing from embarrassment.

"My wounds haven't healed yet." Ember added, Silas not taking his hand off of her shoulder lest she fall again.

"We will have to clean your wounds again." Silas stated, armor clanking.

The pair began to wonder off the path, moving slowly through the forest as they get a meadow with a small kill running through the brush.

Ember's eyes sparkled in joy as she saw all the different colors the blooming flowers produced, their pollen flowing in the wind.

"Oh! Oh, my goodness! Silas, do you smell that? The flowers smell so pretty!" Ember cried, smile wide as she trotted as fast as her wounds allowed her to the source. Silas sneezed in response.

"Yes...I smell them..." Silas replied, rubbing his nose as he sniffed. "I think I am allergic. My nose is stuffy."

"Awww! You sound so cute with a stuffy nose!" Ember laughed, wings flapping gently in play.

"No...I...I..." Silas sneezed, sniffing even louder. "I am...I am going to the kill...my head feels fuzzy. It is strange."

"You, knight, are no fun!" Ember called after the human, Silas waving her off as he retreated to the stream.

Giggling, Ember lowered her head to the flowers, sniffing them as the plants danced to her rhythmic breaths. Revived, the dragoness gently laid down among the grass and flowers, sighing at the coolness of the earth.

Stretching, Ember smiled as she rolled onto her back, ignoring her pain as the sun's rays warmed her underbelly.

"Ohhh, yes!" Ember grinned, her wing muscles stretching as her joints popped.

For several minutes Ember stayed in that position, soothed by the sun's warmth as the wind blew softly. Several flower petals broke off and floated softly around the meadow, traveling to wherever the winds of fate took them.

Beginning to doze, Ember was awoken from her light sleep by the sound of footfalls approaching followed by a sneeze.

"Hahaha! You are still sneezing?" Ember giggled, yawning as she rolled onto her stomach, wings at her side.

"Much to my discomfort, yes, yes, I am."

"Hahahaha! Your voice is still stuffy! It's funny!"

"I am honored to grant you entertainment through my misery, m'lady." Silas replied, a playful tone in his voice. "And that is no jest."

"Ohhh, you're getting all fancy on me now, aren't cha?"

"That I am, my lady." Silas grinned, sitting down.

"Why are you calling me 'lady' all of a sudden?" Ember asked, an eye ridge rising in curiosity.

"Because I view you as a woman, m'lady." Silas answered, eyes alert, as if studying the dragon.

"But I am a girl. You make no sense."

"Correction: You are a woman because you are...well..." Silas paused, at a lost for words as he motioned towards Ember with his hands. "...more...developed. I think-for a dragoness I mean! I honestly could not tell that Cynder was a dragoness. She seemed...vicious, powerful. She fought like no woman either...errr...dragoness."

"But...Silas, you...you said when you found Cynder she was already..." Ember broke off, eyes wide in hurt and terror.

"Oh, no! No, Ember you-you misunderstand me! While it is true that when I had reached Cynder she was already dead, I had seen the battle from a distance and had seen her slaughter the mercenaries before the leader ran through her." Silas stammered, paling as his heart pounded wildly against his rib cage in terror.

"Oh..." Ember replied, shaking the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. "Okay. I'm sorry, I just-I didn't mean to jump to conclusions."

"That is alright, Ember. Apology accepted."

"Your scales are like rose crystals, if you do not mind me saying, m'lady." Silas added, the pink scales hurting his eyes slightly.

"Oh, thank you, Silas." Ember replied, smiling sadly at his attempt. "Are you going to call me your lady now?"

"Well...I have pledged an oath to guard you, Ember, as you know. Therefor, I am your champion, and I address you as such because I respect you for who you are as a woman, not just because you are a dragon."

"So...you respect me because I am a dragoness?"

"That is correct, my lady. It is a knight's honor to defend a woman, so I do not see why it would be different if the woman is of another species." Silas responded, shrugging his shoulders slightly.

"So...in your society female humans are weak?"

"That is...correct. Women are meant to be protected and honored by men because they are considered the weaker sex."

"So you view all women as the weaker sex?" Ember asked, her scales beginning to flush in anger.

"No, not I. Most men that I have come across, however, do. I viewed Anaya as being the far greater sex than I. She could do many things that I could not do that were not related to our difference in sex. For instance, she could dance far better than me, and dancing has nothing to do with difference in gender."

"I see..." Ember growled lowly, smoke smoldering from her nostrils. "Still, I don't want you calling me 'lady' if it means in your society that I am weak. In my race, female dragons are just as strong as the males!"

"I believe your word, Ember, though I have never laid eyes upon a male dragon. I apologize, and I will not call you my lady anymore." Silas spoke, Ember settling back down as she began to look at the clouds.

"Do you miss flying?" Silas asked, Ember tearing her blue eyes away from the sky as she nodded.

"Yes, I do. I can't image how you humans can live without wings, without flying. It must be horrible."

"I do not think it is so horrible. The Heavenly Kingdom is in the sky, so the Lord does not want His children to see His Kingdom until their time has come. If He had wanted man to see His Kingdom, God would have given us wings." Silas answered, smiling with a nod as Ember looked at the human strangely.

"Silas, who is this He you speak of?"

"God. You have not heard of Him?" Silas asked, Ember shaking her head.

"Is He a human god?"

"Yes, He is. God first created Man in His image. This first Man was named Adam. Later, God created a Woman to accompany Adam, which He made from Adam's rib that the Lord had took while Adam slept."

"Ewwwww! That's gross!" Ember cried, tongue sticking out to display her distaste. "Wait...so the first Woman was created from Adam's rib? How?"

"God used his magic to mold the rib of Adam, and thus created the first Woman, Eve." Silas explained, Ember's mouth agape in shock.

"Your face is hilarious!" Silas chuckled, clearing his throat before continuing. "Adam and Eve lived in bliss within the Garden, and would continue to do so as long as they followed God's only rule: Do not eat the fruit from the forbidden tree."

"And they ate it?"

"Yes! Well, Eve ate it, actually. Satan-the Fallen Angel, Lucifer-had shifted into a Serpent and slipped into the Garden."

"Wait! Are Satan and Lucifer the same being?" Ember asked, confused as Silas nodded.

"Yes, they are."

"Ohhh, so Lucifer is the evil guy, right? Or is it Eve?"

"No, no, not Eve. Lucifer is an enemy of God, but was once God's most beautiful angel. But that is a story for another time." Silas paused, clearing his throat. "Back on track, then! Satan had slipped into the Gardens as a Serpent, and had convinced Eve to pick the forbidden fruit from the tree and eat it. As punishment, God has banished both Eve and Adam to Earth, where they populated the world. And because of Eve's faults, women became known as the lesser sex." Silas finished, Ember staying quiet.

"You human are creative with your stories, that is for sure. Though they are very strange and confusing." Ember replied.

"Indeed.. So tell me, did you ever see anything when flying?"

"Clouds." Ember answered, Silas frowning in response.

"Anything else?"

"More clouds. And birds! Oh, and rainbows!" Ember added, Silas shaking his head in disappointment.

"Anything else? Did you see a city in the clouds?" Silas asked, hopeful.

"No. I've never seen a city in the clouds. I have see clouds shaped like buildings though! I saw a cloud shaped like a butterfly once!" Ember cried, eyes sparkling upon remembering the sight.

"Oh...that is swell." Silas responded, crestfallen.

"Did you ever see a shape in the clouds?" Ember asked.

"Of course I have. I saw a flying cow once." Silas smiled, Ember laughing.

"Really? Ancestors, I saw a family of bunnies one time!"

"Truly? All those clouds looked the same?"

"Oh, well, not all of them. Most of the bunnies looked deformed." Ember replied sheepishly, Silas laughing.

"Oh, you are cruel!"

"Mwahahahaha!"

"Cruel beast! Your reign of terrorizing deformed bunnies and their families end here!" Silas cried in play, Ember baring her fangs and growling half heartedly.

"Grrrr! Fear my pink scales of doom with my enchanted green scarf!"

"Harken! Thy scales shine light so viciously upon my sight that I cannot see! Oh, precious light, may I look upon you for the last time for I am blinded by rays of pink!" Silas cried, fainting upon the grass as Ember roared in laughter.

"Ancestors, I can't stop laughing!" Ember cried, wriggling on the ground as Silas laughed from his position from the ground, coughing slightly.

"Are...Are you well? Maybe we should stop?"

"No need to fear for me, Ember. I am fine." Silas replied, forcing out a smile as he coughed.

"What...What were you doing down by that stream?" Ember asked, stifling her laughter, eyes sparkling.

"I was cleaning myself. I was rather bloody from earlier." Silas spoke, Ember leaning closer in curiousity.

"Why were you bloody? Did you get into a fight? Is that how you got your wound?"

"I...was exiled after trying to stop an execution. I was beaten during a riot when the crown turned on me."

"Oh, that's horrible! But why did you try to stop an execution? They had to be evil to be sentenced to death!" Ember exclaimed, Silas piercing his lips into a thin line.

"Not everyone who get sentenced to death is guilty." Silas stated, voice firm.

"Yes they are! They had to do something wrong and needed to be punished for it!"

"You know not of what you speak!"

"Yes I do! Everyone who is accused of something horribly evil must die to make sure nothing horrible ever happens again in the future! They are all the same! Evil, cold hearted, liers!" Ember countered, Silas clenching his shaking fist in rage.

"Anaya is not what you speak of! You are wrong!" Silas hissed, wrath contained as he risen and took his leave, stride swift. Ember's eyes widened at the realization, guilt claiming her gaze as she shot up from her position on the ground.

"Silas? Silas! I'm sorry! I didn't know!" Ember cried, going after the human. His pace, however, was much faster than that of her limp.

"Leave me be, dragon!" Silas roared, the man disappearing to the kill as Ember froze in her tracks. This was not the human she had come to know.

"I'm sorry, Silas." Ember spoke softly, tears running down her face at the harshness of the man's voice. Defeated, the dragoness slumped down on the ground, closing her eyes tightly as her floodgates broke.

Silas paused at the edge of the stream, chest heaving in rhythmic fury as he clenched and unclenched his fists.

"She knows not what she speaks of..." Silas muttered, breathing deep as the man fell to his knees. Breathing ragged, Silas clenched his fist and began to pound into the earth, the water being disturbed from its peaceful rest.

Crying, Silas unleashed his fury upon the stream, the rocks tearing flesh as the water ran red. Silas was forced to discontinue his assault as coughs began to rock his body, violent like his wrath.

Hacking, Silas coughed up blood and mucous into his hands, spitting the vile contents into the stream. The young knight struggled to breathe as the pain became stronger, breath wheezing as the coughs subsided.

Silas stared a bit numbly at his hands, blood trickling past his lips as he wiped his mouth. Sniffing, Silas focused on cleaning his hands in the stream, glancing around briefly only to be startled by a presence next to him.

"Jesu!" Silas cried, heart pounding as he jumped, eyes filling with sadness upon seeing the familiar white dress of his lady.

"Anaya...I am sorry." Silas whispered, the woman smiling at him, eyes warm and loving.

"I am sorry for yelling at you. I am sorry for allowing Ember to say such cruel things about you. I am sorry for failing you. Can I ever gain redemption in your eyes, or have you forsaken me, my lady?" Silas asked, Anaya frowning as she shook her head, eyes softening. Gently, Anaya placed her hand on Silas' larger one, wrapping her small fingers around his as she held his hand.

"You...you are warm? I...Impossible." Silas breathed, voice shaking as he looked at the woman in disbelief.

"But I saw you fall...you fell..." Silas whispered, voice faltering. His steel eyes were becoming clouded with tears. Anaya smiled at the young man, brown eyes sparkling as she took a deep breath, and allowed her tears to fall.

"Oh, my beloved Duchess!" Silas cried, clasping Anaya's face firmly into his palms as the woman grasped his arms. Tears not freely ran down the faces of both as Silas gently wiped the tears from his Duchess' face. She smelled the same as she always did. Like a pine forest mixed with warm cinnamon.

Silas' breathing increased in nervousness as he noticed how close their faces were, just mere inches away. The young knight's gaze quickly fell from his lady's eyes to her lips, their softness calling to him. Feeling the woman's warm breath on him, Silas swiftly glanced into her eyes again, hesitant, and unsure. Within her earthen eyes, Silas had found the love and compassion that had enraptured his heart in a time lost in memory.

Heart pounding wildly, Silas tilted his head, hands unsteady in his nervousness as he felt the warmth resonating from her being without touching her. Silas hovered over her lips, wanting her with every fiber of his being.

"I cannot." Silas spoke, pulling away as he retreated from the woman. Anaya appeared heart broken.

"I was not courageous enough to have you in life, and I cannot have you in death. It is far too late. I should have professed my love for you years ago, before I left for Rome, but I could not. I was too much of a coward. You are but a dream of my darkest desires that I lust to have. A dream of a memory long passed is all you are. Farewell, my tacitae veritas." Silas whispered, forcing himself to turn away from the woman as he stood up. Looking around, the man was saddened to see that she was nowhere in sight.

With controlled breathing, Silas turned toward the direction Ember was, sighing.

"I must apologize to her." Silas muttered, eyes snapping upon seeing movement in the nearby trees. Stilling, Silas watching the forest intently for any sign of movement. It was then he noticed that the surrounding forest was too quiet. It was utterly silent. It was then the scent of death hit Silas' nose, the smell sickening sweet and hot, choking him.

"Mother of God, that is foul." Silas choked, covering his nose, hearing a rock move as he turned and was startled by a man clad in a black robe.

Yelping, Silas jumped, eyes wide as he pointed an accusing finger at the man.

"You! You-are a very strange man!" Silas cried, Rorek smirking under his hood.

"Greetings, my friend. I must say I am rather surprised that you are alive."

"Corpse Walker." Silas greeted, less than appeased. "How did you even manage to sneak up on me?"

"Tis not hard. I simply blend into the shadows."

"I see. And I see that you have managed to find your equipment." Silas added, noticing the man was wearing his familiar clothing and weapons.

"And I see you have not fallen upon your sword in grief."

"Nay, I have not. I thought you, however, would. Or did you not care enough for the Duchess while she lived?"

"More than you ever dared, boy." Rorek spoke lowly, Silas keeping quiet. "How is it that you have survived?"

"I was exiled out of mercy" Silas stated, Rorek nodding as he looked up at the man. Silas was almost completely a head taller.

"I thank you for saving me. I never got the chance to properly thank you."

"I did not save your life for you."

"That may be true, but you still did out of your own actions." Rorek stated, Silas sniffing.

"You look horrible. You look like a corpse." Silas commented, Rorek stoic.

"How fitting." Rorek muttered, sarcasm in his voice. "You are no head turner in your state either."

"...You are a very sarcastic person."

"Well, someone must bore the dead to keep them from rising. Would not want them to eat any flesh now, would we?" Rorek asked, the same tone in his voice as Silas raised an eyebrow.

"You are strange. You need more charm...perhaps I could lend you some of mine?"

"I find that hard to believe. I certainly charmed your Duchess, did I not?"

"How can you be so callous?" Silas asked, anger rising at the slander of his lady.

"She is dead, so I grieve. But not now, the time is not right to grieve. However, were one disrespecting her as much as I, I would not hesitate to punish them." Rorek explained, Silas shaking his head.

"You are a bastard."

"That I am."

"I greatly dislike you..." Silas stated, wondering what had possessed his lady to ever-ever-fall for this man.

"As do I. However, I find it amusing to annoy you."

"And I find it amusing to list off the many reasons on why you shall burn in Hell."

"Care to tell?"

"No. Not at this time...are you done vexing me?" Silas asked, Rorek nodding, both silently agreeing to an odd bond of fellowship.

"So what now?" Rorek asked, crossing his arms. "You and I are both hated enemies of the country."

"We shall leave." Silas answered, shrugging his shoulders. "Come, I have a friend that I want you to see."

"What kind of friend?" Rorek asked, skeptical.

"You shall see." Silas spoke, grinning as the pair walked toward the meadow, Rorek freezing in his footsteps upon seeing a rather large pink dragon.

"Damn." Rorek muttered, Ember alarmed as she noticed the new human and the horrid smell he brought.

"Silas, who is that?" Ember asked, on edge as she bared her fangs. Rorek didn't seemed fazed.

"It is alright, Ember. He is a friend." Silas spoke, smiling as Rorek approached, curious.

"Interesting. I have never seen such a beast before. I wonder how her anatomy works?" Rorek wondered, Ember growling.

"I like my insides just the way they are, thank you very much!" Ember hissed, Rorek holding up his hands.

"I apologize, my dear. Ah, where are my manners? I am Rorek." Rorek greeted, Ember eyeing the man with suspicion as she glanced at Silas.

"Ember." Ember spoke hesitantly, Rorek smirking, exposing his canines.

"A pleasure." Rorek purred. "Silas, how is it that you managed to befriend such a magnificent creature?"

"She was dying, but I saved her."

"From what?"

"Plague." Silas answered, Rorek chuckling.

"My boy, if you cured this dragon of plague you must be Christ Himself." Rorek spoke, observing every inch of the dragoness as she squirmed uncomfortably. "You cut off the infection?"

"Yes."

"Well...that is new." Rorek muttered, Ember scrunching her snout at the man's scent.

"Why do you smell so bad?"

"Because I work with organic compounds, dear. And because I work so much with these compounds, their smell tends to stick on me." Rorek answered, Ember shrinking into herself, unnerved.

"You are scaring her." Silas stated, Rorek ceasing his study.

"I apologize."

"It's okay." Ember replied, forcing a smile.

"I apologize as well, Ember. I did not mean to yell at you." Silas spoke, Ember perking up.

"Apology accepted!" Ember chirped happily, Rorek looking off into the distance.

"What is wrong?" Silas asked, Rorek staring intently at the forest.

"I feel uneasy." Rorek admitted, looking back at the knight.

"Why?"

"I do not know. I feel death approaching on cold wings, with claws of jagged steel dripping with blood." Rorek whispered, Silas shaking his head.

"I do not like it when you speak like that." Silas admitted, sighing. "Are you well enough to move, Ember? I do not want to push you beyond your limits."

"I can manage. I'm not a human female." Ember snorted, Rorek glancing at Silas with suspicion.

Groaning, Ember rose from her position on the ground, stretching.

"Do you want to go back to your lair?" Silas asked, Ember shaking her head.

"No. I've had enough of that dirty mud hole." Ember spoke, flicking her tail as both men looked at each other and shrugged.

"I guess women will be women." Rorek commented, Silas grinning.

"I guess so."

The men began to travel north-east, Ember slowing their progress greatly with her wounds.

"I'm sorry, Silas. You two can go on ahead and I'll check up." Ember suggested, Silas shaking his head.

"No, Ember. I am not about to leave you behind."

"We can rest if you like. I have more medical expertise than Silas, so I can tend better to your wounds." Rorek added, Ember pausing in thought.

"I...suppose we could rest for a little." Ember agreed, settling down against a tree stiffly. Rorek sat down next to Ember, and upon noticing the green scarf around her wrist, chuckled.

"Oh, my..."

"What? Is something wrong?" Ember asked, concerned as Rorek shook his head, carefully cleaning her wounds with a dampened cloth.

"Nothing, dear. We just need to make sure no dirt gets in your wounds and starts up an infection."

"Oh..." Ember responded, wincing as the man cleaned much harder than Silas, her wounds becoming irritated.

"Stop squirming. You remind of my..."

"Your what?" Ember asked, eyes curious.

"My daughter. You have that...air of innocence around you. Same sparkle in your eyes." Rorek paused in cleaning slightly, clearing his throat. Silas raised an eyebrow at the mention of the Necromancer having a child.

"You have another child?" Silas asked, voice distraught as Rorek remained silent.

"Is something wrong?" Ember asked, Silas refusing to answer as he stared at the man.

"No...everything is fine, Ember." Silas spoke after a few seconds of pause, Rorek refusing to speak on the matter as he continued to work.

"There. I believe that will be-" Rorek turned his head as he heard a snap in the woods, glancing to Silas as the young knight readied his sword and shield.

"Who is there?" Silas asked, on edge as a figure emerged from the brush.

"Well, look what we have here. A dragon. Slaying another, knight?" The man asked, Silas' eyes widening at the familiar voice.

"You are that man!" Silas spoke. "You are that mercenary!"

"Mordred de Gaulle? The bounty hunter?" Rorek asked, eyes widening slightly in surprise, Mordred grinning darkly.

"And what do we have here? The Necromancer of Bavaria? You have a high price on your head, friend."

"So it seems." Rorek muttered, eyeing the man darkly.

"S...Silas? Why did he ask you about slaying another dragon?" Ember asked, worried as sweat trickled down the knight's brow.

"Oh? This beast is your friend? How is that, when you single handedly killed the black beast?" Mordred asked, Silas' breath hitching upon seeing the color drain from Ember's scales.

"You...Silas! You...You killed...no! No! You lied to me! You lied!" Ember cried, beyond crestfallen as tears fell swiftly down her face.

"E-Ember, no! I-I did not mean to!"

"I gave you a chance to tell me! Yo-You lied to me! Not once, but twice! I...I thought you were my friend, Silas..." Ember sobbed, choking as she got up.

"Ember, no! Please! I did it to protect you! I knew what the truth would do to you! I did not want to hurt you..." Silas faltered, eyes desperate with shame and guilt.

"P...Protect me? Or kill me? I...I don't know you! I thought you were different from the other humans, but you're not!"

"Ember...please..." Silas begged, approaching the dragoness as she shrunk away, fearful and wracked with grief.

"N-No! Get away from me, murderer!" Ember cried, forcing herself to run into the forest.

"Ember! Ember..." Silas faltered, Mordred laughing.

"What a pitiful sight! What knight are you to befriend a beast?" Mordred asked, scoffing at the knight.

"Go after her, Silas." Rorek spoke. "Mordred may have more men out there, and in her state Ember cannot defend herself."

"And what of you?" Silas asked, worried and distraught as Rorek chuckled.

"Oh, please. I am sure the bounty on my head is much more than a dragon that has caused no trouble." Rorek replied, a slight smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Go." Rorek ordered firmly, pushing Silas away, the man nodding hesitantly.

"Thank you, Rorek. May God be with you, friend." Silas whispered, clasping the man's arm firmly before sprinting off into the forest.

"God be with you...please." Rorek muttered, rolling his eyes as Mordred chuckled, unsheathing his sword.

"Ready to die, Necromancer?"

"In due time, friend." Rorek replied, reaching under his robes and unsheathing duel short swords.

"Pray for mercy while you can, cur, for you shall find none." Mordred smirked, eyes dark and eager as Rorek chuckled softly.

"Come to me then, and allow the cold nails of death to still the very blood in your heart."

* * *

**Well, that took longer than expected. I apologize for the odd dialog between Silas and Rorek, but they have an awkward like/hate friendship/rivalry. I felt bad for Silas and his interactions with Anaya. It's rather hard for me to write scenes like that and keep her silent when she would normally speak and respond to Silas. As for Ember...I'm not sure if her friendship with Silas can survive after that since it was a huge betrayal of trust now that the cat's out of the bag. And I'm not entirely sure how Rorek's fight with Mordred will go either. Well, thank you for reading and please review! :)**


	8. tacitae veritas

**Hello again! Well here is my next chapter! Please enjoy! Once again I apologize for it being so short.**

* * *

_"I was not courageous enough to have you in life, and I cannot have you in death. It is far too late. I should have professed my love for you years ago, before I left for Rome, but I could not. I was too much of a coward. You are but a dream of my darkest desires that I lust to have. A dream of a memory long passed is all you are. Farewell, my tacitae veritas."_

"Ember! Ember!" Silas cried, rushing after the dragoness.

"Wait! It is too dangerous!" Silas yelled, his voice echoing among the forest.

Silas paused for breath, huffing as he looked around the forest, the sun being blocked out by the darkened clouds and thick pine trees.

"Ember! Ember, I am sorry! I am sorry!"

Frustrated, Silas clanked his sword against his side, sighing deeply as his steel eyes glanced around the forest.

"How could she have gone so fast?" Silas muttered, wiping the sweat from his brow. Looking around, Silas noticed a small pink blob hiding against a tree, Ember curled up in a small ball as she used her wings to shield herself.

"Ember?" Silas asked softly, slowly approaching the dragon.

"Go...Go away..." Ember whimpered, voice quavering as she sobbed quietly to herself.

"I am sorry, Ember. I am at a loss for words on what to say, for that is all I can say. I shall not begrudge you if you deny me." Silas spoke, bowing his head as he tore his eyes away from the dragness. He felt far too ashamed to even look at her.

Ember refused to answer the man, burying her head into her paws, eyes downcast and leaden with tears. Silas waited anxiously, fearful for the dragon's judgment.

"I-" Ember paused as a man laughed, Silas on edge as several other men approached from the shadows.

"Here the beast is! Knight, come to kill the dragon, huh?" A man asked, chuckling.

"No! I shall not let you harm her!" Silas spoke, voice strong as he readied his sword and shield.

"Hahahaha! Is that so? One on five? Stand down, boy, and let us slay this creature unless you want us to run our blades through your stomach."

"Rather my life than that of an innocent!" Silas hissed, Ember looked up at the human, fearful.

"Truly?" A man asked, laughing cruelly. "Come, boys! Let us make this knight beg for mercy!"

"Ember, go! Get out of here!" Silas cried, fear overwhelming the dragon's blue eyes.

"Silas...you can't. You can't take on that many!"

"I intend to try."

"Bu-" A shrill roar filled the air as a great shadow was cast upon the ground, the sound of massive wings filling the air overhead.

"Good Lord!" Silas breathed, the foliage breaking and crashing down to the ground as the massive beast landed, breathing a wall of fire in its wrath.

"N...No...it can't be..." Ember whispered, eyes wide, watching in terror as the men were burned alive, screams and burnt flesh filling the air.

"Spyro..."

Spyro landed in the center of the flame, eyes burning and mouth smouldering as he roared, the cry echoing throughout the forest.

"All you humans shall suffer! Such a horrible race you are for murdering my Cynder!" Spyro bellowed, body hidden with smoke and ash, blasting a jet of flame that had set several trees alight.

"Cynder...oh, no!" Silas whispered, heart pounding in terror as he coughed, having lost Ember in the attack. Looking around, Silas was sure all the men were either dead or dying a horrible death by fire.

"Ember! Ember!"

"Silas? Silas! It's Spyro, Silas! It's...It's Spyro!" Ember cried, getting up as she coughed from the smoke, desperate to find the young man.

"Ember! Ember, where are you?!" Silas screamed, desperate as he looked around, seeing nothing but smoke and flame.

"Ember?" Silas asked, seeing the figure of a dragon emerge from the smoke. Silas' eyes widened in terror as he saw that the dragon appeared dark, like a shadow with a golden hue.

"O...Oh, Lord..." Silas trembled, the dragon's lilac eyes darkened with shadow and rage, the beast opening it's maw which burned brighter than the fires of Hell.

"P...Please, dragon...I mean you no harm. Mercy!" Silas cried, terrified as the dragon looked at the human coldly, eyes burning with hatred.

"No. My mate was shown no mercy after being slain. You shall receive no mercy just like the others!" Spyro roared, and in rage lunged at the knight, Silas barely dodging as the young knight tried to flee.

"Silas! Where are you? Silas!" Ember cried, trying to find the human through the smoke, her head jerking as she heard a cry through the ash filled air.

"Oh, no!"

Silas cried in pain the knight landed on his back, skidding to a halt. The young man's sword was knocked out of his hand, shield dented from absorbing the blow from the dragon's attack.

Silas coughed as he struggled to breath, blood bubbled past his lips as he struggled to focus. The thick smoke burned at Silas' eyes, his vision slowly fading to black.

"S-Silas! Silas?" Ember cried, voice laden with worry as she coughed, eye watering.

"S-Spyro! What are you doing?! What's gotten into you?!"

"Ember?" Spyro asked, wide eyed. "Get out! It's too dangerous here!"

"You killed them! You-You killed all of those humans!"

"Humans hunt us, Ember! It's no less than what they diserve!" Spyro hissed, Ember's eyes widening upon noticing Silas lying on the ground, lifeless.

"Silas..." Ember whispered, voice shaken.

"What did you do to him?! Spyro-this-this isn't you!"

"Isn't me? You have no idea what I have been through, what I have lost! You actually feel pity for these humans?!"

"N-No! I mean, not all of the humans are evil, Spyro! Are you saying that even the women and children are evil?"

"All humans are evil, Ember! No one in their right kinda would be so cruel to another, would kill a dragon as viciously as Cynder just for being what she is!" Spyro cried, tears of rage and sorrow slowly streaming down his face.

"A...Anaya..." Silas whispered, eyes unfocused and glazed as silent tears made their way down his face. Shaking the knight reached out towards a force unseen, as if struggling to reach for something unseen.

Spyro glanced at the human, barring his fangs as the purple dragon approached the human.

"Spyro, no! Don't! This isn't you!"

"I'm not who you once knew, Ember." Spyro replied, a hint of sadness in his voice as his talons were brought down upon the knight, Silas groaning, struggling to breath.

"Spyro-" Ember begged, torn between aiding one of her own race or saving the human. Tears from smoke and emotions ran down her snout.

"E...Ember...forgive me." Silas begged, eyes blurry as he looked at the dragoness. "I do not...see you as a dragon, but...as a friend."

Silas paused to breathe large gulps of air, feeling Spyro's talons slowly pierce his armor, the armor becoming sharp and jagged.

"Please...my Duchess...forgive me. Know that I have always...always...loved you. Loved you more than a measure beyond words..." Silas paused, eyes focused upon the woman in white among the pyre and ash. Even while Anaya was standing among such destruction, her beauty could never be tainted by such horrors.

"Farewell, my tacitea veritas-unspoken truth. God willing...I shall see you once more..."

* * *

**Thank you for reading! Spyro finally showed up and I apologize if he seems out of character. I'm unsure of Silas' fate, and I am not quite sure if Ember should save Silas(or even if they are friends, though Silas still views her as one) and stop Spyro, or forsake and Silas and allow him to be killed by Spyro. Since I am not sure, I will put a poll up on my profile on Silas' fate. You can also leave your opinions in your reviews. Thanks! :)**


	9. Renewed Life

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed and voted! Here is the next chapter so please, enjoy! You'll find out if Silas lives or dies in the this chapter. **

* * *

"Spyro, NO!" Ember roared shrilly, lunging at the male dragon as her jaws snapped viciously. Spyro's lilac eyes widened in shock at the dragoness' sudden violence, the male backing away to avoid her talons.

Roaring, Spyro rose on his hind legs, readying his talons as Ember positioned herself over the human, smoke pouring from her open maw and nostrils.

"What do you think you are doing, Ember?" Spyro asked, his scales heating in rage. He could feel the inner fire burn and singe his whole body, wanting to be released.

"He is not one of them!" Ember hissed, eyes narrowed, pupils gaining a predatory sharpness.

"No! You don't know what you speak of!" Spyro cried, Ember's eyes widening as the dragon's violet scales slowly became a darker shade of purple before turning completely black. Spyro's eyes turned completely white, as if he was blinded by a demonic light.

"All humans must die! Stand down or suffer the same fate!" Spyro hissed, black mist swirling around the dragon.

"S...Spyro! This isn't you! This is...is evil! You're not evil! You're a hero!" Ember cried, desperation filling her eyes as she saw the darkness pour out from the dragon's very being. The darkness slowly spread along the forest floor, destroying any foliage that had not already been burned by the flame.

"The dragon you once knew is dead! Spyro is dead! He was too weak!" The black dragon hissed, Spyro's voice more dark, as if demonic.

"No! Spyro, I know you're still in there! You can beat it! I-I know you're angry about losing Cynder, but-but that doesn't mean giving into your dark desires are right! Killing those humans didn't bring Cynder back! Ju-Just as killing Silas won't bring her back! You're only spreading more death! Nothing good can come from it!"

"No!...You're wrong! These...humans...they must pay!"

"But they have families, too, Spyro! They have friends, they have mates, and, and children! The pain you feel...you don't want other to feel that same pain do you? I know it's not fair, but I know how it feels like, Spyro! When...When I lost Flame...I...I felt like I had nothing to live for. And I know that's how you feel like too. You're not alone, Spyro! And I know you don't want to do this!" Ember cried, shaking, though unwilling to abandon her dear friend.

"I...I..." The dragon broke off, voice weak and broken. The dragon of darkness reared on his hind legs, releasing a shrill, demonic roar as the darkness suddenly dispersed into the air, Spyro's blackened scales now returning to their normal purple hue.

Spyro slumped in his posture, beaten and ashamed, his body shaking with silent tears.

"Ember, I'm so sorry! That wasn't me! It wasn't me! I...I just got so angry and...it took over..." Spyro cried, head bowed and eyes closed in pain.

"It's okay, Spryo. I know you didn't mean it." Ember replied, smiling sadly at the purple dragon.

"Come on. We should get out of here." Ember spoke softly, Spyro remaining silent as Ember nuzzled Silas, frowning at the human's unresponsive state.

"I can carry him, Ember. I...I want to help." Spyro spoke quietly, Ember stiffening at the male dragon's offer. Ember could feel an uneasiness settle in the pit of her stomach. As much as she hated to admit it, she didn't trust Spyro. Not yet, anyway.

"No...I got it." Ember spoke, Spyro looking around the burning forest as Ember laid down next to the man.

Gently, Ember picked up Silas with her jaws, and clumsily, awkwardly, put the lifeless knight on her back. Ember could help her heart from beating in terror upon noticing that the man didn't even stir.

"Okay, we can go now!" Ember spoke, struggling to hide her panic. She just wanted to get Silas to safety.

* * *

"Do you see that, Corpse Walker? Looks like your little friends have caused quite a stir!" Mordred laughed, panting.

Rorek paused and looked up into the sky, a massive cloud of smoke rising from the forest in the near distance.

"So it seems." Rorek muttered, barely dodging a swipe from the mercenary.

"Why don't you stay still so I can lop off your head!?" Mordred cried in annoyance, Rorek retreating to a safe distance.

"Because attacking you directly would be idiotic." Rorek stated bluntly, posture calm and laid back.

"**What are you doing toying with this mortal? Destroy him**!" Malefor roared, Rorek flinching at the harshness of the Dark Master's voice.

"Destroy is such a harsh word." Rorek muttered softly, swirling a sword in his hand as Malefor snorted.

"**As is crucifiction**."

"Be quiet, you!" Rorek hissed, ducking as Mordred swung his blade, Rorek pivoting before lunging his weight toward the man's unbalanced flank, causing Mordred to fall onto the ground.

"Uggh! Bastard!" Mordred cried in rage, Rorek rubbing his shoulder, sore from making contact with the man's armor.

"Stand down and you shall live."

"**What?! Coward**!"

"Never!" Mordred hissed, slowly getting up only be roughly kicked back down by Rorek, his foot pinned Mordred's sword arm.

"Come now. Must we really do this?" Rorek sighed, shaking his head.

"**Do it! Kill him! You know cannot run from what you truly are. You are a murderer in cold blood. Can't you smell his fear? Heart the frantic beating of his heart? You want to stop it, make the heart cease to beat just like you did with that child. Do not deny what you are**."

"I had a reason with that child. I shall not kill a defenseless man. He is of no threat to me nor has he endangered my life." Rorek whispered softly, kicking the man to stop his struggles.

"**Hmmmmm, interesting. So you are a hypocrite as well? That child was defenseless and of no threat to you, yet you still ended its life. And this human, that has tried to kill you, has no reason to die**?"

"The babe was already dying. This man is not. He is of no threat to my life at the moment. However, if I see fit, I shall kill in defence."

"**Liar. You feel it within you. You feel the need to kill once more. Just like you did, oh, so long ago. You just forget. These are the memories in the darkest corners of your mind-the ones that hide the true you. It wants its fill of blood, and you are denying it that**." Malefor spoke, voice calm.

"You speak lies! That man is not me. Not anymore." Rorek broke off, muttering softly. Mordred still struggled and cursed underneath him.

"**Yet you do not deny**."

"I..." Rorek faltered, voice quavering as his brow became covered in perspiration.

"**Go on. Kill him. He wouldn't give you the same mercy. And once he is done with you, he will hunt down and kill your pathetic friends. You don't want that, do you**?" Malefor asked.

"I...no, I do not, but it is not right. I cannot kill this man." Rorek spoke, shaking his head.

"**Coward. Then allow me to obligate you in awaking the darkest parts of your mind that have been dormant for too long**." Malefor hissed, laughing as Rorek faltered, screaming.

"NO! GET OUT!" Rorek screamed shrilly, holding his head in pain, feeling the darkness surge through him, fill every fiber of his being.

"No...not this...not this..." Rorek whimpered, struggling for breath as he felt the darkness take control. Cold, and endless like a void. Yet all powering.

Shaking, Rorek watched in horror as his nails began to blacken and his skin grow paler, several black veins beginning to show, as if popping out of his flesh. With gasped breaths, Rorek struggled to regain control, finding Malefor too powerful as liquid began to run down his face, as if it were tears.

Trembling, Rorek wiped the liquid away, his glove coming back covered in a reddish black liquid. Whatever it was, more of it streamed down his face, his eyes having turned black and rimmed with the liquid.

"Wha...What are you? A Lich?" Mordred asked, terror in his eyes.

Rorek stared at his nails, jagged and tainted, his features covered up by his hood. Slowly, almost unnaturally so, Rorek lifted his head to look at the man, eyes black and skin ghastly. And he smiled darkly, revealing jagged and broken teeth stained with blackness.

"I am your death."

* * *

"Did you hear that?" Spyro asked, Ember's eyes showing with worry as a horrifying scream surrounded throughout the forest. Several flocks of birds took off flying, their frantic flaps almost like a panicked heartbeat.

"Y-Yeah." Ember replied, her voice shaking. "I hope Rorek is alright." Ember added softly.

"Who is Rorek?" Spyro asked, head low in shame, yet his eyes shone with curiosity.

"He is Silas' friend." Ember responded. "And my friend as well."

"I'm sorry you had to see what you saw. I never wanted to hurt anyone." Spyro spoke softly, wings to his side.

"I know. It's okay." Ember replied, Silas hanging limply on her back. She had to admit, the human's weight was starting to hurt her back.

"Do you want me to carry him?" Spyro asked again, looking at the dragoness. "You look hurt."

"I'm fine." Ember replied, smiling. "I'm healing, anyway. You can thank Silas for that. He saved me."

"Saved you?" Spyro asked, looking at the human quizzically. Ember nodded.

"Ember, can I ask you something?" Spyro asked softly after several seconds of silence. The smoke and heat from the forest fire was long gone.

"Yes?"

"How did you know...that I lost Cynder?" Spyro asked, Ember falling silent, eyes glued to the floor.

"I...I guessed. I mean, only something as bad as losing a loved one could make you lose control like that. I'm sorry about Cynder, Spyro." Ember spoke softly, looking at the purple dragon with sadness.

"And I'm sorry about Flame." Spyro spoke, his liac eyes looking upon the dragoness with sorrow.

"You...You heard me?" Ember asked, shocked.

"Yes. Even when it had control...I still heard you. I heard your voice, Ember. You made me come back." Spyro replied, smiling softly. "Thank you."

"Spyro?" Ember asked, the purple dragon turning to her.

"It's okay. You can let it out."

"Ember, what do you mean?" Spyro asked, stiffening as Ember nuzzled him, and wrapped her neck over his shoulder in a hug.

"It's okay. You don't have to be strong anymore. You don't..." Ember replied, eyes blue eyes watering as tears softly flowed down her face.

Spyro closed his eyes, returning the hug was he let the flood walls break, the tears running from his eyes like a torrent, and sobbed.

"I'm so sorry, Cynder...Ancestors, I'm so sorry!" Spyro sobbed, gasping and hiccuping as his legs began to lose their strength.

Ember stood silently, tears running down her face and onto the ground as she glanced back at Silas, the young knight still lifeless. Thinking about him being dead, more tears welled up in her eyes and began to fall. He was willing to die for her, like a true friend. Even when she had almost abandoned their friendship.

"Oh, Silas...I'm sorry. Please, don't die. Don't die..." Ember whispered softly, Spyro's sobs overpowering her soft voice.

"Flame, I'm sorry. I'm sorry..." Ember continued, thinking back. "I wasn't strong enough to save you. But now, now I'm scared it will happen all over again...forgive me, Flame."

Ember's eyes lay fixed upon Silas. She couldn't even tell if he was breathing, and that scared her to no end.

The pair stayed like that for several minutes, Spyro's sobs no several gasps and sniffs.

"Thank you, Ember...I mean it." Spyro spoke, pulling away as Ember smiled, her eyes crystalline blue eyes looking into Spyro's star graced lilac eyes.

"It's okay. I needed it too." Ember replied, looking once again back at Silas.

"Is he okay?" Spyro asked, approaching the knight to get a better look only to have Ember pull away.

"I...I don't know. I want to check on him." Ember replied, ignoring Spyro's hurt look.

"Do you still think I would hurt him?"

"I..." Ember hesitated, finding an area of grass to settle down in. "I don't know." Ember answered, Spyro's eyes shining in despair and grief.

"I thought you trusted me."

"I do, just...not with humans." Ember replied, trying to gently slide the man off her back. She flinched when Silas landed with a loud thud on the ground.

"Silas, Silas, wake up." Ember whispered softly, nuzzling the human, terror filling her eyes upon finding no response.

"S...Silas...?" Ember whispered, faltering in shock as the man still did not stir. Silas also had a trickle of blood going out the corner of his mouth.

"Silas. Silas, come on. Silas, wake up!" Ember whispered harshly, nuzzling the human even harder, frantic.

Ember's wide eyes looked over the knight, panicking.

"S...Spyro, I don't see him breathing! I-I do-don't see him b-breathing!" Ember cried in pure terror, hot tears streaming down her face as she looked at the male dragon in desperation.

"Move over, let me help." Spyro spoke, Ember trembling as Spyro got near.

"I won't hurt him. I promise."

Silently, Spyro lowered his head to the human's level, sniffing him. Ember visibly shook, the color fading from her scales.

"Ancestors, please, no. Please..."

Spyro closed his eyes, becoming completely silent as he listened for any signs of life, relying on his magic.

"Ember...I don't..." Spyro paused, listening more intently. Ember's legs gave way upon hearing even the slightest hint of a doubt, the dragoness sobbing loudly, wildly.

"Wait...I hear something..." Spyro announced, hearing the weak beating of a heart and the slow, shallow breathing.

"He's alive!"

"W...What? Oh, thank the Ancestors!" Ember cried, jumping up, only to have Spyro push her back.

"Ember..." Spyro shook his head, looking at the dragoness sadly.

"Wha...no, no, no, no!"

"He's dying, Ember. I'm sorry." Spyro spoke, crestfallen. Ember shook her head wildly.

"No! Oh, no! No! Sp-Spyro, he can't! He doesn't know! He doesn't know! He has to know!" Ember cried shrilly, looking at the purple dragon in desperation.

"Y...You can save him, can't you? You are a Hero! You are a purple dragon! You-You can master all the elements!" Ember begged, Spyro shaking his head.

"Ember, I'm sorry, but...I can't."

"Yes you can! I saw you Spyro! I saw you heal all kinds of injured dragons! You can!"

"N...Not on humans! I don't even know if it will work. You know what it does to me, Ember." Spyro admitted, Ember's eyes narrowing in rage.

"Try, Spyro. At least try!" Ember hissed, her face suddenly softening. "Please."

"I...I will." Spyro sighed, hesitant.

Spyro turned toward the human, still feeling his weak lifeforce as Spyro closed his eyes once more and put his claw over the man's chest, and focused.

Ember held her breath as she watched a white light gather at the base of Spyro's talons, the ball of energy growing and growing until it reached it's maximum size.

"Come on. Come on." Ember gasped, watching as Spyro then plunged the ball of life energy into Silas' chest, Silas suddenly gasping.

"Oh, Silas!" Ember cried, overjoyed as she ran toward the human, accidentally knocking Silas over as the man grunted.

"Oww...E...Ember? Where are those men? H...What happened to me? I saw a white light..." Silas asked, confused as Ember continued to nuzzle the human again and again, wrapping her neck around the human in the form of a hug.

"Oh, thank the Ancestors you are okay!" Ember cried, nuzzling the human's nape, Silas wrapping his arms around her neck to return the hug, though still horribly confused.

"What happened?" Silas asked, being pulled up onto his feet by Ember, her tail flicking wildly.

"You were dying, Silas!"

"What?!"

"And Spyro saved you!" Ember cried, obviously overjoyed. "That was the white light you saw!"

"...okay." Silas spoke, at a complete loss for words as Ember suddenly lunged at the human again and pulled him into a hug.

"Oh, I thought you were dead!" Ember cried, practically crushing Silas against her chest, the knight awkwardly struggling from her talons.

"Wait...Spyro...saved me?" Silas asked, Ember suddenly dropping Silas to the ground.

"Yes! Yes he did!"

"But...he tried to kill me! Kill you, if I remember correctly as well."

"Oh, that's because he was evil at the time! Spyro is good now!" Ember replied, giggling as she turned to Spyro, the purple dragon panting, and seeming exhausted.

"Thank you, Spyro. Thank you so much." Ember spoke softly, calming down as Silas stared at the dragon with alertness.

"You look exhausted. If this magic would have weakened you so, you need not have to save me. Nonetheless, I thank you." Silas spoke, Spyro nodding.

"No problem. Ember...she actually wanted me to do it." Spyro spoke, head low. "It...the energy is made up of some of my life force. It's powerful, but it can backfire on the user-like it is now. I wasn't sure if it would work on humans, but I tried."

"I thank you deeply." Silas, Ember smiling at him.

"Silas, that's your name, right?" Spyro asked, Silas nodding.

"Yes."

"I'm sorry for...for trying to kill you. That wasn't me. I never meant it." Spyro apologized, Silas studying the dragon, as if unsure.

"All is well...Spyro."

"Thank you, Ember, as well." Silas spoke, turning to the dragoness.

"I didn't want you to die, Silas." Ember replied, smiling. "Should we head back to Rorek? I heard a terrible scream coming from his direction, but it didn't sound like him. It...sounded...I don't know."

"Truly? This is disturbing. Shall we be off then?" Silas asked, turning to walk as Ember followed, eager to move. Spyro, however, stayed farther behind the pair.

Silas paused, realizing that this was the first time he had had no pain when he moved. Looking back at the purple male, Silas couldn't help but look at the beast in admiration.

After several minutes of traveling in complete silence, Ember couldn't take it.

"Are you alright, Spyro?" Ember called back, slowing her pace from Silas' to Spyro's.

"Yes, I am fine." Spyro answered.

It was horrible, really. Neither Silas or Spyro made an attempt to speak with each other. Ember guessed it was out of fear that Silas didn't speak to Spyro, and as for Spyro...well, she wasn't too sure.

"Why don't you talk to him?" Ember asked, Spyro shaking his head.

"I don't' really want to talk to him right now." Spyro answered, Ember sighing.

"You should. He's really fun when you get to know him." Ember reasoned, Spyro remaining silent for several seconds.

"I just don't understand how can be so attached to him."

"Because he is my friend." Ember replied, the tension thickening.

"But he is a human. Human's destroy everything they come close to." Spyro spoke.

"Silas will not destroy me. He is a good human."

"Humans killed Cynder, Ember. They killed Flame. They killed your parents. How can you say humans won't eventually destroy us?"

"Silas didn't slay any of them." Ember muttered darkly, Spyro sighing.

"Like it or not, Ember, it's his nature to destroy."

"Silas will never slay me. He cares for me." Ember countered, Spyro looking at her strangely.

"How so?"

"As a friend! Don't be in a rut, Spyro!" Ember hissed, rolling her eyes. "He will make someone a good mate though."

"You are weird. I think you got even worse from when we were kids." Spyro commented, chuckling.

"Why thank you!" Ember replied, beaming with pride.

The trio walked some three miles before they returned to the original patch of forest they had been ambushed, the fire having spread. The area they had rested in was now burned.

Looking around, Silas spotted a body, badly burned, and torn to shreds. Silas had to cover his mouth to keep himself from vomiting as Ember wretched from the horrid sight.

"What happened?" Spyro asked, shocked as Silas moved closer, noticing that the a mass of intestines lay around the corpse, its throat slashed.

"At least it is not Rorek." Silas muttered, recognizing the corpse as Mordred. "But...where did he go?"

"He must have left a long time ago." Ember commented, wobbling. "Can we leave?"

"I know a clearing where we can rest. It should be safe." Spyro spoke, Silas sighing as he looked at the corpse.

"I knew that man was evil."

Night fell until the small group eventually came to the clearing, Silas practically falling down in exhaustion along with Spyro.

"This will do." Silas muttered, sniffing as he looked up into the sky, seeing constellation of Draco the Dragon, and chuckled.

"What's so funny?" Ember asked, settling down next to the young knight.

"I just found it ironic that I see the constellation of Draco."

"Draco?"

"Yes. You see those group of stars? That is Draco the Dragon." Silas pointed to the stars, Ember squinting her eyes to see.

"Oh, I see! I see the dragon!" Ember cried in excitement, Spyro remaining quiet on the opposite end of the small clearing.

"Can you show me anymore?" Ember asked.

"If I can find them." Silas replied, laughing as he began to yawn. "Now, let's see...Big Dipper, Little Dipper, Scorpio..." Silas pointed to each one, Ember's eyes filling with joy upon seeing all the creatures in the sky.

"I've never seen them before! This is amazing!"

"Yes, yes it is. My father and I used to look at the stars. Sometimes, we would see a falling star, and I would make a wish."

"Did it ever come true?"

"Yes...yes it did." Silas answered after a paused, settling down as he began to doze.

"Silas?"

"Hmmmm?"

"I forgive you." Ember spoke softly, nuzzling him as the man smiled.

"Thank you. That means a lot to me. I am glad to be your friend." Silas replied, Spyro snorting from the other side as he turned his head away from the pair.

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**A lot of people wanted Silas to live and I was rather shocked. Is it just me or is Silas and Ember becoming more romantic? I kind of feel like Ember is ignoring poor Spyro. I got the vibe that Spyro was jealous or something. Anyone else? And I apologize for the awkwardness of Silas being revived. I'm not good at deciding romantical pairings so if anyone has an opinion please leave a review. A friend of mine is pushing for Silas and Ember...so at the moment it's either Spyro and Ember, Silas and Ember or NOTHING! I'll put a poll up sometime during the day I think. Well thank everyone that has being reading this story and I hope you are enjoying so far!**


	10. Night Terrors

**Here is the next chapter! Rated M for hinted sexual actions! And as for the voting poll it will be up for a long time. I plan to have no pairing(if any) anytime soon. But this one kind of has a pairing in it so scratch that. Please enjoy and that you all who reviewed and voted! :)**

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"Silas?" Anaya asked softly as she lie next to her partner, their bodies slick with sweat, chests heaving.

"Yes?" The man asked softly, glancing toward the Duchess, hair clinging to their faces from the exertion.

"That should never had happened. Never." Anaya spoke, voice broken, virgin blood staining the sheets.

"I apologize. I truly am. I do not know what else to say." Silas spoke softly, Anaya turning away from the knight, hugging herself.

"What will Father think? Lord, what will Father do?!" Anaya cried, voice shrill with rising terror.

"I know not." Silas muttered softly, averting his gaze to stare at the far wall.

Silas sighed as he cover his eyes, the moonlight spilling through the lone window in the chamber.

"Lord...what have I done?" Silas whispered, wiping his eyes free of sweat and tears that threatened to fall.

He could hear his Duchess sob softly, her sniffing loud with choked gasps. Silas could feel his very heart break upon hearing Anaya's cries. His heart shattered into tiny pieces upon knowing that he, and he alone, was the cause for those tears.

Distraught, Silas turned toward Anaya, the woman's body softly rocking from her cries.

"Anaya?" Silas asked softly, gently touching her shoulder, as if fearful that she was a fragile doll that would break under the slightest touch. He could feel Anaya tense under his touch.

"Please, Anaya, look at me." Silas pleaded, gently turning the woman to face him. She made no struggle as she flopped over to face him. The woman sniffed as she tried her best to wipe her wet eyes and cover her breasts at the same time.

Anaya stared at the man, eyes red rimmed and filled with tears as her eyes shone with hate and grief.

"I am sorry." Silas whispered, breaking their eyes as he struggled to refocus them through the tears.

"I...I feel horribly guilty. I am ashamed. I...I do not know what to say, do not know what to do." Silas broke off, eyes briefly focusing on the soft glow of the candles, the max melting.

"If...If you wish me to leave, I shall. And if you truly wish...I shall never return." Silas spoke, Anaya's eyes losing all their animosity as tears gently flowed down her face, their paths illuminated by the soft glow of the candles. Anaya shook her head, lips pierced to hold back her grief.

"No. Silas, no. Do not leave. I...I do not want you to leave..." Anaya spoke, voice soft as she caressed his cheek. Silas couldn't help but lean into her touch.

"I am sorry. If I could just change it..."

"Shhh, I know. But it is the past. You can do nothing to change that."

The pair fell silent, Anaya covering herself with the sheets as she settled down next to Silas, her body still trembling like it did even before their intimacy.

"Did we sin, Silas?" Anaya asked, her voice quavering as her blue eyes looked in worry, and terror at the man. He refused to answer.

"Did we?"

"Yes." Silas sighed, chest heaving as he inhaled her scent. Even with the smell of sex, and blood, Silas could still smell the odd, yet comforting scent of cinnamon on her.

"Will you tell our Duke?" Silas asked. "I will not stop you, and I will accept any punishment that he sees fit."

"No. I will not." Anaya muttered, glancing at Silas. His eyes were filled with so many emotions: Guilt, self hate, shame, terror, uncertainty. But the strongest Anaya could see was love.

Silas breathed a sigh of relief, managing a weak chuckle.

"Thank the Lord." He could hear Anaya giggle slightly, her fingers now gently trailing his arm.

"Do you love me?" Anaya asked, Silas caught off guard, pausing.

"I..." Silas was interrupted as Anaya smiled softly at him, feeling her small hand trail his chest.

"You don't have to say anything. I already know." Anaya replied, smiling. Confused, Anaya watched as Silas kicked the covers off him and began to search around the room for his various articles of clothing.

"Where are you going?" Anaya asked, Silas putting on his legging as he hopped ungracefully in an attempt to get dressed.

"To the chapel." Silas answered, tugging his tunic over his head, now fully dressed.

"Will you return?" Anaya asked, Silas pausing before approaching her, hesitant.

"Of course." Silas replied, kissing her brow before swiftly leaving the Duchess' chambers, on edge and nerves rattled.

After properly cleaning herself up, Anaya proceeded to move among the halls, nervous, and pale with fear.

"What are you doing skulking around these halls? You should be in court!" Anaya visibly jumped upon hearing a stern voice behind her. Turning around, the Duchess came face to face with her cousin, the Princess.

Anora's cold eyes bore into her younger cousin, her thin, blonde eyebrow arching with skepticism upon seeing the unnatural paleness of her family member.

"You look ghastly. Are you well?" Anora asked, nose scrunching.

"Y-Yes." Anaya stammered. "I...I did not do anything! Do not look at me so!" Anaya cried, making it painfully obvious that she had indeed done something.

"You are a horrible liar." Anora stated, Anaya hanging her head.

"I know."

"Where is your pet? I see that he is not with you."

"At the chapel." Anaya answered, knowing by "pet" that Anora had meant Silas.

Anora said nothing, eyes narrowing at her cousin as she popped Anaya's person bubble, and sniffed her.

"You smell like a man."

"N-No!" Anaya protested, face flushing horribly as Anora smirked and chuckled.

"Ohhh, dearest cousin..." Anora tsked, shaking her head.

"Do not tell Father or Uncle! I implore you! I will be ruined!"

"We will be ruined, Anaya! You will damn the Farring House, you will!"

"I...I am sorry." Anaya faltered, tears welling in her eyes.

"Are you?" Anora asked, Anaya confused by her question as she looked at her cousin quizzically.

"With child?" Anora asked, voice laced with annoyance.

"O-Oh! Oh, I-I do not know, I mean, it is too early..."

"So you very well may? Typical." Anora snorted.

"Oh, what am I to do?" Anaya dismayed, Anora sighing.

"Dearest cousin, this is why you have me!" Anora replied, touching Anaya's shoulder, her hands cold.

"If you are, I shall not tell a soul."

"Truly? Oh, happy days!"

"However..." Anora paused, Anaya frowning.

"However?"

"You shall do whatever I say, no matter what it is, and follow to the note. If you do not...I shall inform Father." Anora smirked upon seeing her cousin's horrified face.

"But-"

"And you know what Father will do? Father will kill the child, and possibly you as well.. Silas shall not go unpunished as well, no. But Father will not kill him. Father shall spare him, and hunt him like a wolf. Father will make him suffer. You do not want that do you?" Anora asked, smiling smugly.

"N...No..." Anaya stammered, terrified.

"Good. I shall summon you when I am in need of you. Farewell, Anaya dearest." Anora spoke, almost sweetly as she took her leave.

"Ohhh...good Lord..." Anaya muttered, her body trembling in terror.

"I must find Silas..." Anaya stated, panicking slightly as she swiftly moved through the halls, movements stiff.

Anaya walked into the chapel, and incense instantly comforting her as several candles softly lit the room. Looking toward the altar, just below the cross with Jesus, was Silas.

Anaya approached hesitantly, unsure if she should intrude. The knight appeared to be in deep prayer, as if he hadn't moved from that spot in over six hours. And knowing Silas, he probably didn't.

Silas heard her footsteps, and briefly glanced at Anaya.

"May I speak?" Anaya asked.

"You can always speak in my presence." Silas answered as he shifted, legs stiff and cramping.

"You have been here praying all day, have you not?"

"Yes. Praying for forgiveness of my sin."

"Our." Anaya corrected, Silas nodding.

"May I sit?"

"You need not ask." Silas spoke, Anaya slowly kneeling down next to her champion as she clasped her hands together. The chapel was completely silent. Not even the priest was present.

"Anora knows." Anaya stated, Silas glancing at her, yet showing no hint of emotion.

"Let her do as she pleases. She will only cause her own ruin." Silas commented, returning back to his prayer. The room fell in silence once more.

"I am sorry." Silas muttered softly, Anaya glancing at him. At first, she thought Silas was directing the statement to God, but had realized that he had indeed directed it at her.

"There is no need to apologize. No one is perfect." Anaya stated, smiling softly.

"You seem to be taking this much better than I."

"I...was happy. You made me happy. I could think of no other man that I would have rather..." Anaya broke off, unsure of how to put it to words.

"Really? No other?" Silas asked, skeptical. Anaya just smiled and shook her head.

"What now?" Anaya asked.

"I know not. It is...improper, and...unprofessional."

"What of love? What of family, Silas?" Anaya asked, Silas pausing.

"Anaya...no matter what, I shall not leave your side. If...something more does happen then...I may not know what to do, but I shall try to provide for you and...be a father." Silas spoke, as if unsure.

"You will be a wonderful father. You are a good man." Anaya whispered softly, clasping his hand gently, Silas' thumb moving over her small fingers.

"I love you, my Duchess. My only regret is not having the courage to tell you sooner. I did not want to ruin what we already had." Silas spoke softly, Anaya smiling.

"I love you, too." Anayre replied simply, unsure of what else to say, face flushing.

"You will be a wonderful mother." Silas whispered softly, lovingly as he kissed his Duchess on her brow once more. Anaya couldn't help but shy away from his affections.

Softly, Anaya began to cough, covering her mouth as the coughs became more violent.

"Anaya? Anaya are you well?" Silas asked, concerned as he supported the woman, Anaya now beginning to retch.

"I...I am fine." Anaya managed. "It must be something that I ate."

"You are with fever." Silas spoke, his concern rising upon noticing the heat she was giving off.

"No, no...I am-" Anaya vomited on the floor, Silas supporting her small frame as he rubbed her back.

"Let it out. Let it out."

Silas looked at the vomit, noticing a good portion of it was blood, which concerned him greatly. However, Silas noticed something else within the bile. With horror, Silas realized it was an embryo of an unborn dragon chick, it's large eyes coal black and dead, body worm like.

"Mother of God!" Silas stammered, pulling Anaya away as he looked at the cross, watching in horror as a black liquid ran down the statues face.

"Anaya! Anaya, we must go!" Silas urged, Anaya shaking her head, I covering her eyes with her hands.

"No. I cannot, Silas. I cannot..." Anaya whimpered.

"Why do you shield your eyes? Open them! Open them!" Silas urged, Anaya protesting only to have her hands pulled away, revealing her black eyes, similar liquid running down her cheeks.

"No! What evil is this?!" Silas cried in dismay, Anaya looking at him sadly, eyes soulless.

"Go. You must go, Silas."

"Go? No, I shall not leave you!"

"You must! He is coming!"

"He? Who? Anaya, who?" Silas pressed, the candles suddenly going out, covering the room in darkness.

"A...Anaya? Anaya?" Silas called, voice trembling. He could see nothing in the darkness.

Silas stayed completely still, hearing nothing but the own sounds of his swift breathing and racing heart, sweat trickling down his brow.

Silas jumped as a pair of golden eyes appeared in front of him, pupils predatory and full of malice.

It only took a second to see the fangs, and another to see total blackness again as the beast lunged at Silas, the knight hearing the screams of someone being murdered.

Shooting up from his sleep, Silas covered his own mouth to muffle his shrill screams. His heart beat so fast he was sure it would just give out, his breath struggled and ragged and he was covered in sweat.

"Are you alright, Silas? You were screaming?" Ember asked, clearing wide awake and startled by the sudden noise the human produced. Spyro observed the human as well, on alert.

"I never...never..." Silas muttered, eyes glazed in terror as he suddenly shot up and began pacing, pacing like a cornered animal.

"I...I...I ne-need to...g-go. Go aw-away! Leave! Far away!" Silas muttered in blind panic.

"I...It is...n-not safe! Not sa-safe he-here!" Silas spoke, Ember liking at her friend in worry.

Upon hearing a snap in the forest, Silas opened his mouth and screamed in pure terror, and without thinking, bolted off into the forest, nearly tripping over himself.

"IT IS HERE!" Silas screamed shrilly, and in desperation, resisted prayer after prayer to keep him safe.

"Silas! Silas, wait!" Ember cried, concern filling her voice and she tried to hobble after the panicked human.

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**Poor Silas. He's mentally and emotionally scarred even more. Don't worry, he'll eventually come to his scenes. And I don't know if I will write more of Silas' dreams with Anaya, but his dreams are basicly displaying what could have happened, as well as forshadowing future events. I hope you all enjoyed! :) **


	11. Bloodline

**Here is the next chapter! I would like to thank everyone who reviewed/followed/favorited once again! Please enjoy! :)**

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"O, Father and Son in Holy Heaven, please have mercy on my poor soul!" Silas forced out between short, ragged breaths. The only thing that he heard over his feet heavily pounding into the earthen soil was the frantic beating of his terrified heart.

Fleeing from an unknown terror in his blind panic, the young knight gasped as his swift pace broke rhythm. A dull thud resonated in the dark forest as Silas fell face first into the ground. The young man dared not move. The only noise that Silas emitted was the labored strain of catching his breath, a cold sweat covered his skin like a film upon thinking that his beating heart might burst.

Silas' fingers dug into the ground as his body told him to run, to flee, to survive. But instead the young knight closed his eyes, awaiting the demon as his body had refused to move any farther, his energy reserves completely drained.

Silas' heart continued to pound wildly, eyes yet closed. Still, nothing had arrived to end the humans life. Opening his eyes, Silas slowly, shakingly looked around the forest, the moonlight casting shadows that danced from the shifting of the trees on the wind. Yet despite the fact that the forest was alive, not a soul broke the silence in the darkness. Nothing was there.

"It...it cannot be...nothing?" Silas stuttered, slowly rising to his feet, body shaking as he looked in every direction, nearly tripping over himself.

"No...it cannot be...show yourself, demon!" Silas dared the beast, glancing around, but finding nothing.

"Come! Show me your damning eyes, coward!"

Silence reigned throughout the forest as Silas breathed in air, shaking his head in a deep sigh as he looked at his trembling hands.

"A dream? Yes, it...was all a dream." Silas stated, voice hollow as his fingers did twitch.

"I do not find these hands familiar. These hands are not the clean hands from my youth. They are red and covered in blood. Yet for all my sins they are clean of one: Desire. Or was my vision the truth? No, no I am sure it is not. For all my sins, I have never stolen my Duchess' virtue." Silas stated slowly, thoughtfully.

"It is just the wishes of my darkest desires. Yet...why am I plagued by such demons? O, Lord forsake me not. Have you forsaken me? Was the darkness seeping from your eyes like tears a sign that I have lost your love? My darling Duchess, how rests your soul? Is it a sign? Is your soul suffering because of me, is your sweet spirit held here on this plane against your will?" Silas asked, as if awaiting an answer.

"Whatever evil I have done in this world, I shall seek redemption for them. I promise you, my lady. I shall never forsake you, and I shall try to set my wrongs until death." Silas spoke, sighing deeply.

"I lust for after that no disaster can touch us anymore, but I see that it is too late. And more than ever I hope to never fall, Anaya. It is just not the same as we were children, hiding in the larder, playing little children's games, pestering our fathers, running whilst our laughter echoed under cerulean skies. It is all gone. More than ever I hope to never fall, for enough is not the same it was before."

Silas breathed deeply, unconsciously reaching to grab his hilt only to grasp thin air. A cold wave of terror briefly overwhelmed his body as he glanced down upon his sheath to it empty, his blade gone.

"Oh, Father, forgive your ashamed son." Silas muttered, thinking to what his father would say upon finding out his own son had lost his sword. A knight was nothing without his sword, even a dishonored knight.

Grunting slightly, Silas turned to head back to the clearing only to find himself vexed. He had absolutely no idea which direction he had come from in his blind panic.

Silas looked around, hoping to find some kind of trail he might have followed but found none. He seemed to be completely in the heart of the forest.

"Oh, Lord, where to do?" Silas asked himself, at a loss.

Deciding to walk in the direction he thought he came from, Silas made sure his shield was strapped tightly to his arm. If an animal or cutthroat attacked, Silas could always bash them with his shield and daze them. If he was lucky they would be deterred from the blow, or completely ignore the knight.

Putting one foot slowly in front of the other, Silas cautiously walked among the forest floor, his senses heightened in the dull light. While his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, Silas relied on his hearing, listening for any presence of another, be it animal or man. He heard nothing but the calls of an owl perched in a tree.

Looking up at the owl, Silas couldn't help but get a sense of dread upon seeing the large bird's piercing yellow eyes stare at him through the darkness. The way it watched him move as Silas walked by disturbed him. Head slowly turning, eyes unmoving and unblinking. He knew it was just the owl's natural way of looking, but to Silas, it seemed unnatural, as if the golden eyed beast from his dream was lurking in the dark.

Silas gulped as he carefully picked his way in the darkness, cursing every time the moon went behind a cloud. Silas couldn't help but let his mind wander, couldn't help but think that the demon, whatever it truly was, was with him, stalking him in the darkness. He just couldn't help it. Soon, Silas found himself looking over his shoulder, at times turning completely around, expecting a pair of demonic eyes to look at him, followed closely by the blood stained maw.

Turning around, Silas gasped as he walked into a tree. Startled, Silas quickly stepped back, heart pounding against his rib cage in start. Upon realizing it was just a tree, Silas calmed some, face flushing at being bested by a tree.

Moving to walk past the tree, Silas paused as his steel eyes looked upon the ground, chuckling softly.

"It is funny, is it not? That you were the one that needed protection from the darkness, and I was your light. Now, however, it is I that needs protection from the demons in the murk." Silas commented, laughing, voice shaking as he looked to his side and saw Anaya standing by him.

"Are you lost? I think you are lost. You should not be here." Silas commented quickly, shaking slightly as Anaya frowned largely in confusion.

"You are too light for this darkness. If you were a grey, you would be allowed to stay, but since you are white I think you are lost." Silas spoke, flinching away as Anaya tried to touch him. Startled, Anaya pulled her hand away, eyes hurt and pained from the rejection.

"I saw your eyes bleed! You, whom had taunted me daily unknowingly for years you-you still taunt me in my dreams! I saw you and that-that demon! You are not my Duchess. You are too light for the shadows of this word and do not belong here! Begone, spirit! Stop torturing me so!" Silas hissed, Anaya shaking her head profusely.

"Lies! You are just a puppet for that monster that has forsaken Christ and caused his eyes to bleed like tears!" Silas whimpered, flinching away violently as Anaya approached, the woman retracting her hand once more.

"Do not touch me, shade! I-I shall have no more of your vile taint!" Silas spoke, frantic as his back pressed tightly against a tree.

"Touch me not! Your flesh is poison! Vile, sinful poison!" Silas spat, visibly shaking as closed his eyes as the woman's small hand approached his face, breath ragged.

"Vile treachery!" Silas cried weakly, feeling the warmth of her small hand gently caress his face, a deep breath escaping the man as he slowly opened his eyes.

"I see your face. I know your face." Silas mustered, breath hitching slightly as Anaya smiled, eyes shining brightly, as if blue stars among the moon's light.

"Why do you weep, m'lady?" Silas asked, Anaya smiling sadly as she claps his face gently with her small hands and shook her head.

"Anaya, why do you despair?" Silas asked once again, voice soft as he gently brushed a tear from her pale cheek.

"I can fix it, my lady. By God, whatever it is I have done wrong I shall mend it in your honor." Silas whispered softly, gently tilting Anaya's chin up so that she could look at him.

"This I promise you, Anaya."

At this, Anaya sighed softly, smiling sadly as she shook her head, and tenderly kissed her champion's cheek before stepping away.

"Anaya? My Duchess, do not walk away! Do not walk away and leave my heart yearning! O, horror!" Silas cried in dismay, struggling to follow his Duchess into the darkness, his eyes barely able to see the white of her dress through the murk.

"Do not forsake me, my sweet lady! Do not forsake me! Please! Please, I implore you!" Silas cried, wild in his desperation to keep up with her.

Pausing to gasp for breath, Silas looked around to see nothing but darkness in the forest and the slivers of moonlight. He knew that wherever Anaya had went, he had long lost her.

"I do not understand. Why do you come and give me faith only to oh, so, cruelly rip it out of my chest? Have I displeased you that much?" Silas asked, looking around desperately for any sign of Anaya, but found none. He could feel his very heart break.

Sighing in defeat, Silas continued to walk through the forest, occasionally stumbling over a rock or branch.

Passing a tree, Silas jumped slightly upon seeing a shadowed figure, and panicking, instinctively reached for his sword that just wasn't there. It was then Silas had noticed that the figure was indeed Anaya, her white dress hazy and worn.

"My lady! Oh, you gave me quite a freight! I had thought that you were a banshee." Silas admitted, Anaya making a breathless laugh as she shook her head, and gently grabbed Silas' hand.

"Where are you leading me?" Silas asked, allowing the woman to lead him gently.

"I am confused. How can you feel so...warm, so alive yet you are...dead? Are you a spirit? Is that what you are?" Silas asked, receiving no answer but a reassuring smile.

Silas had no idea how long she had led him, but had known that by the shifting of the moon that it must have lasted for an hour.

The pair had wondered until the sound of running water had reached Silas' ears, and his nostrils flared upon smelling a scent that was yet too faint to define. Among the sound of running water, Silas could swear that he heard voices, hushed and panicked.

"Where are we, Anaya?" Silas asked, Anaya pointing toward the small creek. It was then the smell hit him. The most horrid smell that stayed on one for weeks even if they had just encountered it once. The smell of death.

"What is the meaning of this?" Silas looked at Anaya, looking for any sign of deceit, but could find none.

"Not mine...this blood is not mine..."

Silas ears perked up upon hearing the voice, and it took him only a second to realize who it was.

"Rorek...you brought me to Rorek?" Silas asked, Anaya nodding, pointing once more toward the stream. Though Silas couldn't see Rorek, he guessed that the Necromancer was just around the bend.

"And what do you w-" Silas was cut off upon finding Anaya gone once more.

"I wish I had my sword." Silas muttered, cautiously approaching the man.

Emerging from the forest, Silas' eyes fell upon the man kneeling on the edge of the stream, washing his hands in the water in a constant, frantic motion.

"Not mine...not mine..."

"...Rorek?" Silas asked, Rorek halting in his actions as his head snapped up towards the knight.

"...What are you doing?"

"Washing the taint from my hands. But they will not come clean, much to my dismay!" Rorek answered, Silas unsure how to react.

"You appear...troubled. Like you are a corpse." Silas commented, noticing the large bags under his eyes.

"Troubled? That is one way to put it." Rorek muttered, Silas keeping his distance.

"I do not like the tone in your voice."

"Yours is no better. You are on the verge of cracking, boy." Rorek stated, resuming to clean his hands. They appeared as if they they were rubbed raw.

"I assume Ember is safe?"

"That is correct." Silas stated. "And there is another."

"The one that started that forest fire?"

"Yes." Silas answered, hearing Rorek grunt.

"And are you going to slay that one as well?"

"No. Though he has reason to slay me."

"How so?"

"The dragon I murdered was his mate. And he knows not."

"Keep it that way." Rorek commented, Silas falling silent as he stared at the man.

"You have a lot in common with him, but I see one major difference: you do not mourn the loss of your love. Tell me: why do you not mourn?" Silas asked, Rorek falling silent.

"Because now is not the time to mourn. Have you heard the wolves of war howling? They are the harbingers, and they shall bring upon us death."

"You speak madness..."

"Madness? I speak the truth. A war is coming, Silas. The Duke shall not let his daughter's death go unpunished. As we speak, he is planning to attack Regensburg and dethrone the King."

"The King is letting him build an army?"

"Your King is sadistic. The moment he begins to see William as a threat, the sooner he will squash the rebel forces like a bug under his heel. William needs more men, Silas. He cannot win this war by himself."

"You...want to join?"

"I am guilty as much as you are. My actions have caused all this, and I shall not abandon these people, shall not forsake them. Can you get the dragons on our side? With the drakes on our side, we would surely defeat Eamon's forces."

"I...no. It is too risky. Ember is too weak, and Spyro...does not care for humans." Silas answered, Rorek sighing.

"They we are on our own."

"We?"

"Yes. Shall you not fight?"

"I wish, but...I do not have my sword..."

"I was wondering when you would realize that you have lost your blade." Rorek muttered, Silas looking at the man with skepticism.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I believe this is yours." Rorek spoke, Silas' eyes widening in disbelief as Rorek had removed the blade from under his robe.

"You...how?"

"I looked for you, and you were not there. Instead, I found this."

"You unnerve me." Silas faltered, quickly grabbing his sword and pointing the blade toward Rorek.

"And this is how you show gratitude? How rude."

"Quiet! I saw...I saw what you have done to that man! You-you tore him open like an animal!" Silas spat, Rorek's eyes showing some for of understanding.

"So you fear me?"

"I do. I fear you. I fear you because I do not know where your loyalties lie. I fear you because you do not mourn like a man. I fear you because I saw something from the moment we met-something in your eyes that was not right. And now I see that the darkness in your eyes has grown stronger. Why is that? What devilry has possessed you?!"

"My loyalties are to Anaya. And since she was loyal to you in life, I shall be loyal to you. I have proved my loyalty and shall continue to do so by fighting in this war. I refuse...to have Anaya, my child, become injustices of history." Rorek spoke, voice calm, though containing a hidden venom.

"You, however, choose to aid dragons rather your own countrymen."

"No. You lie."

"I do not lie unlike you, who have fallen into hypocrisy." Rorek hissed, Silas' sword arm shaking as he diverted his gaze.

"You shame me." Silas whispered, drawing back his sword as Rorek got up, his knees cracking, which caused Silas to flinch.

"I am sorry for questioning your loyalties." Silas apologized, Rorek sighing as he shrugged his shoulders.

"I forgive you, my friend. I shall follow you until the bitter end, wherever that may lead us."

"I am glad, friend." Silas smiled, Rorek void of emotion.

"Silas?"

"Yes?"

"I...was not myself today. What I was when I killed Mordred...that was not me. Would you care to carry out a task for me?" Rorek asked, Silas hesitant.

"What is it, may I ask?"

"If I ever lose myself..." Silas became uncomfortable as Rorek approached him. "You do not waist any time in ending my life." Rorek whispered, pointing Silas' sword over his heart.

"Make this black heart cease to beat, my friend, before it stops yours."

"Why...why are you saying this?"

"Because I fear the next time I see you, it shall not be me." Rorek stated, Silas greatly disturbed as Rorek turned and casually walked away.

"Good Lord, what have I gotten myself into?" Silas asked, following Rorek, who seemed to know where he was going. Silas, however, never dared to turn his gaze from the man.

* * *

Ember's eyes darted from side to side in worry, her posture rigid and alert as she waited with anxiety and worry for her friend to return.

"Ohh, where are you, Silas?" Ember asked, noticing how the moon had almost fully retreated behind the mountains.

"I hope Silas is okay. Something seemed to have really frightened him." Ember voiced her worries aloud. Ever Since her friend had run off she had not been able to fall back to sleep. She would have followed the human, but her wounds slowed her down, and the knight quickly ran out of her sight. Who knew someone in full armor could run so fast.

Ember stood there, ever vigilant as she nervously awaited his return. Who knew what horrible, evil creatures Silas ran into in the dark? What if he was injured and needed help? The thoughts plagued Ember's mind, filling the dragoness with guilt.

"Oh, Ancestors! Spyro, I thi...Spyro?" Ember asked, confused to find the purple dragon nowhere in sight.

"Spyro? Spyro! Ancestors, where did he go?" Ember wondered aloud, the thought briefly crossing her mind that Spyro had gone after Silas in the darkness, to hunt him. She couldn't help the feeling of cold fear strike her chest.

"No, no. Spyro would never do that..." Ember muttered, laughing nervously as she shook her head.

Looking around, Ember noticed a small cave at the base of a rocky slope.

"Strange...was that always there?" Ember asked, but mentally scolded herself for asking such a stupid question.

Curiously, Ember approached the mouth of the cave, sniffing around the entrance. Ember's eyes lit up upon smelling Spyro's familiar scent, the dragoness looking behind herself briefly incase Silas emerged from the wood. Upon finding no one, Ember descended into the cave.

The dragoness' eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness as she followed the path, Ember's curiosity growing upon seeing a growing flame around the rocky corner.

Reaching the end of the cave, Ember walked into a rather large opening, and in the center of the cavern, was a nest.

"Oh, my goodness!" Ember gasped, smiling upon seeing several eggs underneath a layer rock, the rocks burning and smoldering to provide the eggs heat, yet to protect them from the full brunt of the flame. Laying curled around the nest, was Spyro.

In joy and curiosity, Ember approached the nest, Spyro's head snapping up as he growled, baring his fangs as his pupils gained a predatory sharpness.

"Spyro, it's okay! It's me, Ember!" Ember spoke, voice quavering as she backed up. She could feel the air thicken in the small cave from the dangerous situation.

"Oh...Ember? I...I'm sorry." Spyro replied, his pupils returning to a more docile look as he lowered his head.

"H-how many do you have?"

"Two. Three didn't make it." Spyro replied sadly, shutting his eyes tightly.

"Dead? H...How?"

"When Cynder never came back, I decided to look for her. I thought I wouldn't be gone long, that the eggs would be safe, but...the flame died."

"But...the two eggs are okay, right? They'll live?" Ember asked, not understanding how such a horrible fate could befallen on life that had not been born yet.

"They're heartbeats are weak, Ember." Spyro replied, making a movement as if to nuzzle the nest.

"I didn't want to bring him here, but I couldn't stay away from the nest any longer."

"Him? You mean Silas? Why?"

"He's human, Ember. I don't want my children in any danger."

"Silas is no threat to us!"

"To you, maybe, but not my family!" Spyro hissed.

"You don't know him." Ember resorted, a calmness to her voice as smoke flowed from Spyro's maw.

"You didn't see what they did to Cynder. If you did, then you would understand why humans cannot be trusted." Spyro growled, a knot of dread forming in the dragoness' stomach.

"Wha...what did he do?"

"He?"

"What? I mean...have you ever seen any female humans hunting us? They are all males. Is something wrong?" Ember quickly asked, hoping her kin didn't detect the quaver in her voice.

"It's...nothing. It just sounded like...you knew...the human that killed her."

"Oh, well I did! He was the one that was hunting me. I forget his name...it was one of those funny human names. It started with an M. But, anyway, we don't have to worry about him hunting us anymore, because he died in that nasty forest fire."

"The one human that was burned in the clearing?" Spyro asked, Ember nodding.

"So...what did he...do?" Ember asked, quickly adding, "You don't have to tell me if it is too painful."

"They...they severed her wing, and cut off her talons. I saw a human dead first, and then I saw others. Many others with their riding animals. The...the ground was so thick with blood it was hard to move. And in the center of it all...I saw her. I saw my Cynder, covered in blood and desecrated like she was an animal!" Spyro roared, his voice rising in anger as hot tears poured down his snout.

"N...no..." Ember breathed, her voice barely but a whisper as her eyes welled, the dams breaking.

"They...they robbed me of my love, Ember. But worst of all...the took away the mother of my children, the one that had bore my children out of love, the-the one that was looking forward to their hatching, and their elements, and their flying lessons." Spyro broke off, sucking in air.

"But now...that future is gone."

"No. No, it isn't. Do you hear that?" Ember asked softly, Spyro looking at the dragoness in confusion.

"Hear what?"

"Life." Ember answered, lowering her head down to the ground to hear the chicks beginning to squeak, Spyro's eyes going wide.

"No...i-impossible..."

The flame began to die down on the rocky nest as the cries became more frequent, Spyro now standing up in excitement.

"Oh, Ancestors, what do I do!? If only Cynder were here!"

"Patience, silly. We wait." Ember replied, giggling slightly as the pair anxiously waited, Spyro pacing around the small cavern nervously.

A half hour passed, and the eggs had still yet to fully hatch. By now, the two eggs had been cracked open, the egg tooth on the drakeling's snouts breaking through their eggshells.

"W-what if they can't get out on their own? What if they are stuck in there?" Spyro asked, frantic as Ember shhed him.

"Be quiet, Spyro. This takes time."

A full hour passed until the chicks fully busted out of their prisons, the hatchlings crying and snapping at one another.

"My...my babies..." Spyro muttered in disbelief as he lowered his head toward them.

The hatchlings playfully bit at their father, their sharp teeth drawing blood as Spyro pulled away.

"Ow!" Spyro cried, Ember laughing as footsteps resounded off the walls of the cave.

Instantly, Spyro's pupils turned sharp and narrow as he roared, his hatchlings flailing in distress.

"Spyro, stop! It's only Silas! It's only Silas!"

* * *

"I told you they were in here!" Rorek exclaimed, Silas following closeby, shaken by the male dragon's roar.

"I do not understand how you are not fazed."

"When you travel, you learn to lack fear."

"Ember?" Silas called out, hearing the dragoness' shouts, but unable to understand them.

"Are you two doing any...dragonly...things?" Silas asked, now taking small, almost baby like steps as the thought came across him mind that he might be interrupting something.

"Dragonly is not a word." Rorek stated dryly.

"I know dragonly is not a word. I made it up." Silas whispered swiftly.

"But I do not know how to...say it otherwise." Silas admitted softly, Rorek rolling his eyes.

"Oh, for the love of-are you two mating?!" Rorek asked, his voice echoing off the walls and amplifying his voice. He was answered back by a shrill roar, which he had to guess was from the male dragon.

"...that is either an answer for 'no' or an answer for 'yes'."

"Well, are not you a genius." Rorek responded, sarcasm dripping off his voice.

"Wait! Do you hear that?" Silas asked, the pair falling silent.

"It sounds like...running? Their claws are scraping against the stone but it sounds...uneven."

The men looked at each other oddly, both tensing as the odd noise got closer. Before either men could react, a small, lizard like creature emerged from the shadows and lunged.

"Good God, they had BABIES!" Silas cried, Rorek screaming as the chick bit into his calf.

"Get it off! Get it off!" Rorek cried, flailing his leg around as the hatchling refused to let go, growling in play.

"Play dead! It will not eat you if you play dead!"

"Silas, this...is not a bear!"

"It might work!" Silas shouted, eyes widening as another chick emerged from the shadows.

"Cy...Cynder?" Silas barely stuttered, feeling all the blood drain from his face in cold fear as the chick lunged.

* * *

**Attack of the baby dragons! Yay! On a serious note, am I the only one that thinks Ember is siding with Silas a little too much? All of the characters are turning into liars. Also, I'm not sure what the fate of Spyro's children will be, and I cannot see him being friends with Silas or Rorek(or any human) anytime soon. Well, that's all for now. Thank you for reading thus far and please review! :)**


	12. Inner Turmoil

**Okay, here is the next chapter! I apologize for the delay. I was very busy this for almost two weeks. I would like to thank all who reviewed/favorite/followed! And remember, the voting poll is still open so feel free to vote! :)**

* * *

"By the Ancestors! What is going on?" Ember cried in worry to the sound of high pitched screams filling the air.

"I hope the babies are okay." Ember spoke swiftly in worry, Spyro pushing past her toward the entrance of the cave.

"Spyro, wait! Don't hurt Silas!" Ember cried, struggling to keep up with the larger male as he roared.

Ember rounded the corner heading to the mouth of the cave, pausing in her steps as she looked in confusion at the sight before her.

"Oh, my..." Ember gasped upon seeing the spectacle of two grown men struggling to fight off the chicks, who playfully snapped and latched onto their limbs.

"Let...go, draconis!" Rorek growled, small trickles of crimson running down his leg as the chick tore at his trousers.

Grunting, Rorek managed to rip the drakeling from his calf, holding it from the scruff of it's neck as the chick pawed and made high pitched squeaks.

"You are a troublesome little wyrm." Rorek muttered, looking at his companion to see the younger man running around in terror from the other hatchling. He wasn't screaming, no, but he was definitely terrified of it.

"Leave me be, sky-plague! Stop hounding me!" Silas cried, easily outrunning the small drakeling as the mini Cynder chased after the knight on shaken legs.

Retreating out of the cave, Silas barely noticed that the sun had come up before he struggled to find his balance, the young man nearly slipping on the rocks.

"Gah!" Silas gasped, quickly finding his balance as he turned around to see the chick stumbling towards him, pausing as it wobbled on it's feet.

Silas shifted, breath ragged as he stared at the drakeling. He couldn't help it. Just looking at the chick made his feel terror and anger. Terror for his guilt, for his flaws, and rage for stealing what had belonged to him, what had belonged to his Duchess. It was Cynder incarnate.

A loud roar erupted from the cave, Rorek running out in full speed to avoid Spyro's wrath.

"Get away from the wyrm! Leave the wyrm!" Rorek cried, Silas' eyes widening in terror and realization. Terror upon seeing Spyro emerge from the cave in full sprint, actively chasing Rorek, and realization at the fact that the wyrm Rorek was warning him about was the hatchling.

Without thinking, Silas turned and jumped down the small slope, grunting as he hit the ground and started rolling down the hill.

"Damn, damn, damn!" Rorek cursed, running down the hill and skidding to a halt once he reached the bottom.

"Is he still chasing us?" Silas asked, now up and ready to run. Both were back in their little clearing.

"No. He stopped." Rorek replied, catching his breath.

"He is like a sow with her cubs." Silas commented, hearing Spyro roar in rage from his small perch, Ember beside him, no doubt lecturing the male on his unnecessary hostility.

"As long as we stay away from the wyrms we should be fine." Rorek muttered, Silas nodding in agreement.

"That...sounds like a good plan. Shall we go back up?"

"I do not feel like getting mauled. I myself have grown rather attached to my legs, and need them for support." Rorek responded, sarcasm dripping from his voice like venom as he glanced down at his bleeding leg, the black cloth stained.

"You are a very sarcastic person."

"Ahhh, to tear the flesh."

Silas remained quiet, both men tensing as the adult dragons approached them.

"You look thrilled." Rorek commented dryly, Spyro snarling as Ember nudged him.

"Be nice." Ember whispered harshly, Spyro covering his fangs.

"You have us quite a start, Spyro." Silas stated, uneasy with the stiff atmosphere.

"If he attacks I will trip you." Rorek whispered, leaning toward Silas as the knight frowned.

"That is not honorable at all."

"AHEM!" Both looked at the pink dragoness, her blue eyes baring into the purple male.

"Isn't there something you would like to say?" Ember asked, Spyro averting his gaze from all present.

"Spyro." Ember growled darkly, teeth baring slightly as the male released a large, deep sigh.

"I'm...sorry."

"What was that? I don't think they heard you."

"Ancestors, I said I was sorry! I just got...a little overprotective." Spyro muttered, head bowed.

"A little? That is an understatement." Rorek spoke.

"I would hate to see him if he were extremely overprotective." Silas muttered, a awkward silence falling upon them.

"And?" Ember asked again, Spyro sighing as he muttered quietly to himself. Spyro looked at Ember, and upon seeing the look she had, knew there was no way out of this.

"Fine...you can...be around my kids..." Spyro broke off, beyond miserable as Ember smiled.

"Only if we are around to watch you, that is."

"You do not trust us?" Silas asked, hurt in his voice as Ember shook her head.

"I trust you. It's Spyro that doesn't." Ember stated, chest puffing in pride at her victory. Spyro lowered his head in defeat, wings at his side.

"I'm heading back to the chicks. They will need to eat their first meal soon." Spyro spoke softly, moseying up the hill as his offspring began to roll around in the dirt, playfully nipping at each other.

"Are you boys coming up?" Ember asked, to which Rorek answered by slumping against a tree, the man slowly sitting on the ground.

"I will stay here. I would like to take a walk to...clear my head." Silas answered, turning to slowly walk down a nature made path. The man paused in his steps as the dragoness called to him.

"Yes?"

"Can I come with you? I need to get some exercise, but if you don't want me to then I won't." Ember asked, Silas looking at the pink dragon briefly before motioning towards her.

Ember smiled and strolled up to Silas' side as the man looked over her wounds briefly. They seemed a lot better from when he last saw them.

"You need not ask to join me." Silas murmured softly, Ember's eyes suddenly becoming sullen.

"I was worried. I didn't know where you went."

"I was lost. That is all I know." Silas answered, picking up his pace.

"But you came back." Ember countered, pushing herself to keep up.

"That I did." Silas stated swiftly, his tone hinting that he was in no mood to speak.

"Why? What happened last night?" Ember asked, before adding, "What scared you so much that you fled?"

"Nothing, Ember. It was a dream, nothing more."

"Dreams aren't to be taken lightly. Dreams are special in our culture."

"But not all dreams come true. They cannot make actions that have never occurred become reality."

"If this dream you speak of can't become reality then why does it scare you?" Ember asked, Silas pausing as he sighed deeply, Ember awaiting his response.

"Because things in the physical word...you can understand them, you can even control them if you have enough knowledge. Otherworldly things...you have no control of. Mere Men will never be able to understand them. That is why I fear. I fear for my eternal soul. That is why I ran. To you I may seem like a coward, and perhaps I am, but that is the truth." Silas answered, sighing as he continued to walk once more.

"You were afraid for you soul? Why?" Ember asked, looking at the human with confusion.

"Because if we do good things in our lives we will go to Heaven when we die. It is like...a paradise. If we do too many bad things in our lives...we go to Hell...and burn in an eternal fire. I fear I have done too many horrible things." Silas confessed, shamed.

"What happened in your dream?" Ember asked softly, Silas giving up.

"I...had a dream about my darkest desires. I saw...a dead dragonling...I saw...people...bleeding from their eyes, but it was not blood. I do not know what it was. Jesu was crying with the blood as well. Then darkness. And within that darkness, I saw two eyes. Serpent like and...full of devilry."

"Do...you think it means anything? That sounds scary." Ember asked, obviously disturbed as her tail and wings twitched in unease.

"I thought it meant that God had abandoned me, that I was doomed to burn in the fires of Hell. I think that is possible, for that is why I ran. I thought the Devil was after my soul. But...I thought the dead drakeling would mean a dead dragon-maybe you are Spyro. Now I am uncertain."

"Ancestors, do you think something will happen to the babies?" Ember asked, worry in her voice as Silas shrugged.

"I know not. I cannot see any threat coming to them unless it is illness."

"Or you are the threat." Ember commented, eyes widening upon realizing what she had said out loud.

"I beg your pardon? You just said you trusted me!" Silas asked, feeling the blood drain from his body.

"I do, Silas! I...I want to trust you, I really do, but...Spyro...he told me what you did to Cynder. How he found her body." Ember paused, Silas remaining silent.

"You know what I did? I cried. I cried for Cynder's horrible fate. I cried for the pain you put Spyro through. I cried for the fact that you robbed two babies of their mother. But mostly...I cried because I didn't want to believe that...this human, my friend...did such a cruel and horrible thing." Ember spoke, voice beginning to break as warm tears ran down her snout.

"You have treated me with nothing but kindness, and even though you lied to me I forgave you when maybe a more hardened or experienced dragon wouldn't. Oh, I care for you, Silas, and I want to believe that you are safe, but...but deep down...you scare me. You scare me because I don't know if this...darker side will come out again." Ember whispered, wings outstretched as if to make her appear larger.

"It hurts me, Silas. I want to trust my friend, but...I do not want my friend to be a murderer." Ember spoke weakly, Silas obviously hurt as he hesitantly raised his hand to comfort the dragoness, Ember pulling back, shaking her head.

"I am sorry for causing you distress. I do not like to lie, but I was fearful of how you would think of me, knowing that you lost your kin to a once trusted friend. I did not want to ruin our friendship. I understand if you view these hands as blood stained. I do as well. No matter how much I clean them they will always be tainted with...blood." Silas paused to look at his hands, Ember looking at the human in sadness.

"I implore you, Ember, please, listen to me. I did not kill Cynder out of cold blood. I would never kill anything unless my life depended upon it. Cynder-God rest her soul-attacked us first! It was only by chance or fate that I killed her! One fell stroke that caused my blade to be embedded in her skull!" Silas cried, breathing ragged as he covered his eyes briefly.

"Then...what of her talons? Spyro said...said they..." Ember broke off, heart pounding in her chest at the man's confession.

"Aye. I did. I did, oh Lord! Those claws, those vile claws destroyed the last link to m'lady!" Silas cried, taking a sudden deep breath to calm himself and collect his thoughts.

"What was your last link?" Ember asked, curious, yet fearing an answer.

"You may laugh at me, but Cynder had gutted Anaya's beloved horse, Brago. I was...furious that I had lost something that had belonged to her, furious that I had lost a friend...so I cut off her talons in my wrath." Silas sighed a deep sigh of relief.

"It feels as if a weight has been lifted off my shoulders." Silas commented, smiling sullenly at Ember. The dragoness looked at the human, eyes showing sorrow.

"I'm sorry for what Cynder did to you and your friends, though it was horrible she had to die." Ember spoke softly, Silas nodding in agreement.

"It was horrible. Until I met you, Ember, I only saw dragons as beasts. Phhff! I did not even believe in them until Cynder tried to kill me. But now, I see them as equals to man. Either way, I hope you see that I am no longer a threat to the chicks."

"I've seen the way you look at the black one. You have fear in your eyes and you get very pale. Does she...bring back the memories?" Ember asked softly, Silas nodding.

"Yes. Everytime I see that little hatchling I see her, and I cannot help but feel rage build inside of me. Anger and terror." Silas admitted, hanging his head.

"Do you trust yourself around her?" Ember asked, Silas blowing out air as he thought.

"I truly do not know. While I do not think I would ever do anything to Spyro's children, I still do not like these horrible feelings I get. I would never try to hurt them on purpose, and even if one did attack me I would not strike to kill, but to wound. I...believe I just need to distance myself. For their sake."

"She seemed to like you. Maybe if you spend time with them?" Ember asked, Silas fidgeting, as if nervous.

"I would rather not. Their teeth hurt." Silas responded, Ember rolling her eyes.

"Oh, please! You are such a big baby! And you took more pain than little bite marks. You will never get over your fear if you don't face them."

"Silas Adler...terrified of drakelings...yes. My pride in wounded." Silas muttered, tone suddenly becoming more serious, grave, as he added, "My true terrors are the memories of the attack. I have not seen that much death at once, lives taken so fast. I saw Cynder as a monster, for how could anything with a conscience claim lives without of second thought? Little did I know, I had become that very monster the moment my blade drew her blood."

"Ember...I want to help these chicks. I know that now I may do more harm than good at the moment, but maybe when I become a better, stronger man I can truly help. It is the least I can do for Spyro and Cynder, and I pray that she forgives me." Silas spoke, Ember's eyes widening in shock before a large smile broke out on her face.

"So you will try?" Ember asked, excitement in her voice as Silas smiled softly.

"Of course. So long as someone is around to supervise." Silas answered, Ember pounding her front legs onto the ground in some sort of pattern in joy.

"Excellent!" Ember squealed, Silas flinching slightly as her voice reached a higher pitch.

"Oh, sorry." Ember apologized, grinning sheepishly as the man chuckled slightly.

"Apology accepted, my friend." Silas replied, the pair now walking at a more comfortable pace.

Spyro watched silently as his offspring played in the clearing, eyes sharp and focused as he kept staring at the human dozing underneath the shade. He just didn't trust them. And this one gave off a bad vibe. He could swear he could smell the scent of death just hovering around him.

However, Rorek seemed completely unphased by the purple dragon, breath calm and steady. If he was even aware the male dragon was constantly eyeing him for any signs of danger, he cared not.

Spyro then turned his attention to his stumbling offspring. They may have been a bit shaky on their four legs, but they were much better than when they hatched only a few hours ago. Watching them, Spyro couldn't help but feel his chest puff up in pride. These were his children after all. He only wished that Cynder was here to share this wonderful moment with him.

Spyro's amethyst eyes scanned over the chicks, their stubby legs failing to fully lift their pudgy bellies off the ground, the small, underdeveloped wings tightly tucked against their stout bodies. The chicks continued to play and stumble as they walked, one falling over on its back and calling for help, its short legs flailing as its sibling began to chew on its hind leg.

Chuckling, Spyro gently nuzzled the downed chick on its legs, the drake plopping to the ground, as if suddenly too tired to even try and get used to its legs.

"Be nice to your sister." Spyro spoke softly, nuzzling each chick as the male snapped at his father, once again drawing blood.

"Hey! Be nice." Spyro scolded, the male continueing to snap as he nipped at his father's talons.

"Ancestors, you bite hard..." Spyro muttered, wondering where his child had gotten such a strong bite from. Looking at the chick, Spyro was also wondering where the chick hot it's coloration from. The male was almost pure white with black talons, a pair of lightning green eyes showing playfulness and determination.

Looking at the female chick that was now sleeping, Spyro couldn't help but smile as he saw the familiar coloration of his deceased mate. The only difference was the chick had a much darker shade of red, as if it was dried blood.

"Well, look at you. Daddy's little princess." Spyro cooed, Rorek shifting in discomfort at the mention of a daughter.

Spyro's head snapped towards the human at the sudden movement, the male growling as he bared his fangs.

"You would be a fool to see me as a threat, draconis." Rorek muttered softly, his sharp eyes locking onto Spyros' amethyst.

Spyro released a guttural growl, his scales straightening and expanding as his muscles tensed. He could see it in the human's eyes. He wasn't normal.

"Take care of your children. Succeed in where I have failed. Your offspring will grow to cherish you, while my child will grow to hate and fear her sire." Rorek advised, settling back down again.

"Why are you advising me?" Spyro asked, Rorek scoffing as his shoulders slumped.

"Because you are troubled. I do not need eyes to see that. You and I are on the same path, friend. However, you shall take the greater path." Rorek replied, the slightest smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"How can you tell?" Spyro asked, position becoming more relaxed as his son stumbling toward the man, looking for someone to play with.

"How? These eyes see many things that no mortal should. However, even a man without my eyes could see your pain. You have lost your mate, and so have I. We are the same, yet we are not." Rorek answered, holding out his bony hand to allow the drakeling to examine.

"See things? Can you tell the future? How do you know my path?" Spyro asked, curious, yet skeptical as he stood alert, on edge.

"I do not see all things. A blind man can see more than I, yet I can see more than a man with woman born eyes. I do not have eyes of one that is woman born, and in doing so had killed my mother with my bloody birth. I believe that is the reason I see things that no normal man can see." Rorek answered, the male chick latching onto his fingers, blood dripping onto the moss laden floor.

"You're insane." Spyro stated, Rorek breathing, as if to produce of dry, soundless laugh.

"What you call insanity is what you do not understand." Rorek spoke, watching the chick clamp down harder onto his finger, allowing the drakeling to suckle.

"This one will grow and become the bane of your enemies. This one has the same eyes as I." Rorek observed, Spyro shivering as he growled, the chick breaking his grip and hurrying back to his father, tripping over himself. At least they listened.

"Interesting. Did you know that those with green eyes are considered to be into witchcraft?" Rorek asked, Spyro baring his fangs.

"I get the feeling they are right." Spyro grunted, turning his head to see his kin approaching from the woods, the fire haired human by her side.

"Oh! It appears you two are becoming friends! Great!" Ember cheered, smiling as Spyro looking at the female with doubt.

"Yes. Things are going so well. In fact, Spyro and I were about to march down to Regensburg and do a jig in an attempt to get the King's men to die from laughter." Rorek blurted out sarcastically, smoke emerging from Spyro's nostrils in annoyance.

"Oh, hush, you two! Are you ready, Silas?" Ember asked, Silas paling upon seeing the black chick waking from her slumber, the white male looking at the knight with curiosity.

"No." Silas whimpered pathetically, hesitantly getting on his knees as the chicks approached.

"Face your fear, Silas!" Ember cheered, Spyro raising an eye ridge as Ember smiled sheepishly.

"He's scared of your babies." Ember replied, Spyro looking at the human in disbelief.

Rorek watched intently, musing to himself as Silas visibly shook as the chicks approached him.

"Not Cynder...you are not Cynder...you are not your mother..." Silas whimpered to himself, feeling the rage and terror beginning to build inside him. Why was he feeling these emotions toward a creature that had never wronged him?

Silas flinched and shrunk into himself, raising his arms to defend himself as the chicks began to sniff and nibble on his hands. It was mainly the white drakeling that was bothering him, the black chick was staying back, as if afraid.

Silas shielded himself until the white chick got bored of him, noting that the human wasn't going to play with him anytime soon. Looking at the black chick, Silas noticed that she wasn't moving at all. She seemed terrified.

"Oh, you poor creature..." Silas whispered, whatever rage and terror he felt for the hatchling disappearing. She was more terrified of him.

Slowly, hesitantly, Silas stretched his hand towards the drakeling, the female stumbling and looking at the hand, eyes wide.

"It is okay. I will not hurt you, little one." Silas cooed softly, Spyro watching intently as the black chick slowly approached the human's hand, sniffing it.

"See? You have no reason to be afraid." Silas smiled gently, slowly retracting his hand, keeping his movements slow as to not startle the baby drake.

Silas froze as the chick slowly stepped up to him, her small, stubby paws gently smacking his leg in play. The chick squeaked as she almost lost her balance, but was steadied by Silas.

"I feel like I will hurt her if I am not careful with her." Silas admitted, his hand gently hovering over the chick's body.

"She likes yooooou!" Ember teased, nudging Silas as she smiled warmly.

"It appears she does." Silas agreed, stiffening as the chick licked his chin. He couldn't help but shiver as the display of affection. It reminded him of his dog he had as a child. But the chick's breath didn't smell like dog breath.

"Oh, my. Do you want her? Why do you not go to your father, little one?" Silas asked, slowly getting up and frowned as the chick followed.

"Oh, dear..."

"Awwww! That's so adorable!" Ember cried, Spyro looking less than thrilled that his daughter had chosen a human over her own father.

"It appears that you have a little friend." Rorek commented, chuckling slightly as Silas sighed.

"It appears I do." Silas muttered, watching as the black chick pounced on his foot, chewing on the metal.

* * *

**Yay! Finally done! If any of you were confused with Rorek's woman born thing, he is saying that he is not woman born in the sense that he was not born vaginally. Instead, he was speaking of how he was cut out of her womb, hence his bloody birth and his mother's death. Also, I'm horrible with names and for the life of me cannot think of names for the chicks. The only female name I can think of is Seraphina, which was the name of Silas' mother(and means 'burning one'). Also I am not sure on their elements yet, but I will think of them one way or another. If you have any opinions please feel free to tell me. And poor Spyro, his daughter kinda ditched him. Oh, well. That's enough ranting on my part. I hope you all enjoyed and please review and vote if you want to. :)**


	13. God's Judgment

**Okay, so here is another short chapter for you all to hopefully enjoy! I've decided to take a break from Spyro and the others and show what's happening in Regensburg. Also, for those of you know don't know, 'wyrm' is Old English for 'worm'(which is known as a young snake) or 'serpent'. So when Rorek is calling the babies 'wyrms', Rorek is literally calling them 'baby serpents'. Anyway, please enjoy! :)**

* * *

"Uncle, when is Silas coming back?" Berend asked, Carl pausing as he wiped the sweat from his brow before planting the scythe firmly into the ground.

"You have asked me that question for days, child. Why do you not milk the cow instead?" Carl asked, looking at the boy as Berend looked at the man. If anything, the child seemed hurt at his cousin's abandonment.

"Did Silas do something bad, Uncle?" Berend asked again, squinting up at the older man. The crack of loud thunder in the distance caused the boy to jump as Carl looked up into the sky, the cloud black, as if bruised.

"It is going to rain. Good. The crops need the rain." Carl muttered, skin and clothes covered in dirt and sweat. "I swear that forest fire made things warmer."

"Will the fire come here, Uncle? Will we have to leave town?" Berend asked, Carl sighing.

"God looks after His people, Berend. Just as He brings water down from the Heavens to nourish our crops, He also uses it keep us safe from that fire." Carl answered, grunting slightly as he freed the scythe from its prison.

"Was God looking after the Duchess? I do not understand why He would want to kill her. She was always nice to me. And why would God want to kill a baby? She did have a baby, did she not, Uncle? Or was she just portly?"

"Good Lord! How do you know all of this?" Carl asked, distressed as the man covered his eyes briefly and sighed deeply.

"I was told that the baby was Silas', and that they were using the black man to-"

"Oh, Lord, please stop talking! I do not want to hear anymore of it!" Carl cried, sighing once more as he looked at the boy, both faces sullen.

"Shall we go home, pup? I can feel the storm coming." Carl asked, walking off the field and into the dirt path, Berent following close by.

"I do not want to go into town. Everyone looks at us strangely." Berend voiced, Carl remaining quiet for several seconds.

"Well, we shall do our best to ignore them, yes?" Carl asked, knowing well on what the boy meant. Ever Since the first born son had been exiled, the residents of Regensburg had all but completely shunned the small family. They always glared at the remaining members, eyes full of hate, blame, scorn, shame, and occasionally sadness and pity from a kind soul who did not resent the family. If it was not by staring, it was by verbal abuse. Many of the villagers damned the Adler family for the sudden political and military unrest in their town. Their taxes had doubled, and soldiers were constantly moving through the tiny village, in and out of the Regensburg's great castle and protective walls.

And if it wasn't the villagers themselves, it was the very soldiers that were meant to defend them. After the execution, many of the soldiers have lost respect for the family. Those rare few that did call the family their friends, were either close peers to the patriarch or the first born. Though those few precious allies were often in the castle, they had seemed to all but abandon Regensburg, leaving the territory controlled by knights of the King. The Duke himself had left the very day of the execution, taking a rather small portion of the army with him that were loyal. Yet Eamon would do nothing against his brother. William's forces were far too small to even break a dent in Eamon's war machine.

With any luck, however, the country would fall apart under Eamon's rule without his brother by his side, and the people would revolt. That situation, however, seemed bleak. After all, who would want to ally themselves with a Duke whose daughter had been executed for necromantic practices?

"Silas would not have wanted this." Carl muttered, shepherding Berend down the dirt road passed several cottages. With the storm coming, very few people were actually outside.

"I miss Silas." Berend stated, Carling looking down at the boy only to notice his eyes had started to water.

"Silas is no longer here to teach me how to ride a horse, or how to sword fight, or joust, or..." Berend paused, trying to think of more thing his older cousin could have passed down.

"You would need to learn how to ride a pony first, boy. And Silas was horrible at jousting..." Carl muttered, remembering his son's first jousting tournament. It was almost painful to watch, really.

At the age of twenty one, after his newfound knighthood, Silas had jumped at the chance to participate in a jousting tournament. Young, eager, and filled with pride, Silas was confident in his abilities. However, the newly anointed knight was not seeking to win the prize. He was seeking to woo the Duchess, and capture his childhood friend's heart.

Carl couldn't help but chuckle to himself as he remembered how Silas' face had lit up upon seeing the Duchess arrive. She had come to every jousting tournament the young man had been in, whether he had won or lost in the end, it mattered not. Anaya always cheered for him, and Carl knew how much it meant to his son.

The first jousting tournament, however, was nothing short of embarrassing. Eager, but inexperienced, Carl could only watch as his son was knocked off the steed from well placed blow after blow. The last blow was the worst, which had not only sent Silas flying off his horse, but had caused the man's foot to get tangled in the reigns, causing him to be dragged behind his horse. Pride wounded, it had taken Silas nearly six months to work up the courage to join jousting once again. Despite his horrendous failure, it was Anaya's words that had eventually convinced him to take up the lance once more. If anything, Silas appeared to be fueled in his determination to joust in his Duchess' honor, and had soon excelled in the sport.

By the time Silas had turned twenty two, he had undoubtedly become stronger, and skills had sharpened from the training of his knighthood and jousting practise. For a man so young, he was one of Regensburg's finest, which wasn't saying much since the country had some of the poorest knights in Europe. Several times the young knight was urged to go to London, but the man simply refused, not willing to leave his home or Duchess for such a long period of time.

Carl shook his head as he walked down the very roads he and the Duke used to travel together, watching their children cause chaos wherever they went. Though Carl did not know where his old friend had gone, he dearly wished he could be by William's side. Regensburg had now become hostile. Even the castle was deemed unsafe by Carl, who refused to allow Berend to attend his duties as a page there. After all, with the elder cousin gone, Berend had no one to prod constantly.

"Silas was a lot like you as a boy. Always eager, and willing to learn." Carl commented, Berend looking at Carl with wide eyes, as if in awe.

"He was?"

"Yes. But he was one part hardy, three parts fool. He really changed over the years. It makes me feel older than my years." Carl chuckled, Berend jumping at the crack of thunder in the distance, rain now softly falling from the sky.

Carl paused, realizing how much his boy had changed in the years. Ever since Silas had returned to jousting, he had become more cautious, more patient, more professional. More mellow. If he still had interest in pursuing William's daughter, he showed it not, and had always kept a level head. But there were times when Carl could see the old Silas through the more mature knight that he had become. At times, he would become playful, and step out of his line of duty to aid others.

Carl couldn't help but feel sorrow and guilt build in his chest. It was he that had instilled Silas to do the morally right thing, for if he did he would be in God's good graces. And as a result his son was exile, and possibly no longer alive.

"Was God truly looking after Silas?" Carl asked, Berend glancing at the man.

"You said God looks out for people. So God is looking after Silas." Berend reasoned, Carl staying silent before sighing.

"I do not know anymore Berend." Carl spoke.

"I do not know if He will look after my son. What is I had failed Him? What if I had done something wrong that had made God take my son-my firstborn?"

"God is not cruel, right, Uncle? God is kind." Berend asked, the pair making their way to a small, run down cottage.

"He can be a merciful God, Berend. But cross Him and He shall be a vengeful one." Carl spoke, voice quavering as Berend opening the door and bolted inside, terrified as thunder and lightning roared across the Heavens.

"Did Silas do something bad, Uncle?" Berend asked, voice shaking, as if the boy was terrified that God's wrath would take their house down as he hid under the covers of his bed. Hay littered the floor of the cottage as Carl leaned the scythe against the wall.

"That is not for me to answer, Berend. That is God's judgment."

"Then why do the angels cry?"

"They cry for our sins. For your cousin's or for mine."

"How can Silas sin, Uncle? Silas is a good knight!"

"The sins of the father, Berend." Carl sighed, looking out the window as the panes began to shake against the wind.

"The sins of the father."

* * *

**Thank you for reading! I wanted to show what was happing to the town while Silas is off doing...knightly...things? Also, I plan to have Carl and Berend become(possibly) larger characters later on. I think Berend asks too many damned questions. I bet Silas is happy that his younger cousin isn't bothering him for once. Also, I am extremely stumped on what to name the chicks, and DO NOT feel like calling them drakelings, wyrms, chicks, ect. Well, I think I ranted too much. Please give me your opinions and thanks to all you readers for the support! I honestly didn't think this story would be so popular as it would be and I thought A LOT of people would hate Silas for killing Cynder. Once again thank you all and until next time! :)**


	14. Innocence and Instinct

**Hello! Here is the next chapter than I hope all of you will enjoy! :)**

* * *

"They are beautiful. You are lucky to be a father, Spyro." Ember commented, smiling softly as Silas struggled to get a fire going, the small flames being snuffed out by the wind.

"Thank you, Ember." Spyro replied, looking down at the chicks curled between his front paws.

Spyro briefly watched the knight struggle the make a fire, his amethyst eyes then turning to the other human off to the side.

"You are not doing it right." Rorek spoke softly, Silas grunting in response.

"I think I would know how to start a fire."

"If you truly did we would not be in the dark at the moment." Rorek countered, the pair beginning to argue quietly among themselves as Spyro sighed, his gaze falling upon his sleeping chicks.

"You two bicker as if you are mates!" Ember laughed, the two humans arguing back and forth. The pair jumped as a blast of flame erupted from Ember's mouth, the dragoness smiling sheepishly as the fire died down slightly, yet still burned strong.

"It is amazing that humans have been able to dwindle our kind to such small numbers." Spyro replied, unimpressed with the humans' survival skills as he rolled his eyes. The drakelings shifting slightly before settling back down, taking comfort in the warmth of their father and the newly birthed fire.

"Oh, hush, you!" Ember shushed, the fire casting shadows that danced within the small clearing the trees as several snaps and pops were heard from the burning wood.

Yawning slightly, Silas sat down close to the fire, smiling as he warmed his hands, one palm caked with dirt and dried blood.

Rorek looked around briefly, as if hesitant with paranoia before nodding to himself.

"What are you so jumpy for? Hiding something?" Ember asked, joking as Rorek flinched, his hand jerking away from his neck.

"No. I am just getting undressed. Partially." Rorek added after a second's thought, feeling awkward and suddenly vulnerable.

"Awww! Is someone shy?" Ember asked, fangs showing in an almost predatory smile.

"No, I am not shy." Rorek spoke, inwardly sighing. Like Hell he was shy. Rorek remembered an experience in Rome-the worst one of his life-where he had been robbed by urchins while bathing in a small river. When he came back, all of his equipment and clothing were gone. Annoyed, Rorek had tracked down the urchins only to pass a small shack in the process. Not wanting to be walking around naked all day, he broke inside(which was not difficult since the door had no lock). To Rorek's dismay, the only thing he found in the the shack was a sleeping drunken man, and no sign of his possessions.

It was then that the son of the drunken man-whom Rorek would later know as Judas-opened the door. To find a naked man in his house. What seemed to terrify the boy more, however, was not the naked man standing in the middle of the small shack, no. He was terrified because the intruder acted like he was completely clothed, without shame.

After a brief, yet awkward, greeting, Rorek had explained his situation and demanded that the boy give him his clothes. Judas, however, didn't want to be naked either since he only had one pair of clothing-the attire he had on.

Much to the Necromancer's dismay, he was forced to wear a potatoe sack after cutting openings for his head and arms. It was uncomfortable, and made Rorek's skin irritated and itchy. It also didn't fully cover him.

After being made fun of by his newfound ally for several minutes-much to Rorek's annoyance-Judas accompanied the man in his quest to find his belongings. It took them a majority of the day to find the urchins responsible, and after giving them a proper punishment, recovered the items.

Saying farewell to his new friend, Rorek departed to the city of Rome, a city that he had hated with all his being, however, was seeking others of his own kind. It was a foolish mistake. One that had almost cost him his life on several occasions, only to be saved from the Emperor of Rome's wrath by a small heirloom. The heirloom rightfully belonged to a member of the Royal Family of Germany, the Farrings. Rorek had never told Anaya, but her token of affection had saved his life.

Hesitating, Rorek slowly threw back his hood, short black hair disheveled as he fiddled with the sleeves of his robs. Ember watched, curious as Spyro gave the human an odd questioning look, as if expecting Rorek to use some kind of black magic. Silas paid the man no heed, and instead focused on cleaning his equipment on whatever cloth he could find.

As if humming to himself, Rorek took off his robe and neatly folded it on the ground, revealing a simple black tunic and leggings. For a brief moment, Rorek fiddled with his belt buckle, as if he were to remove it but stopped. Instead, the necromancer heaved a sigh, and leaned against a tree, the twin sheaths of the short swords hanging almost lazily on his waist. The sheaths and their belt made a small x over his original belt.

Rorek fidgeted slightly every couple of minutes, his eyes scanning the shadows with a keen sense of awareness. Rorek's eyes flicked to the pink female, sensing she was about to speak.

"What are those strange markings on your skin?" Ember asked, Spyro rolling his eyes slightly at Ember's interest in humans.

"These?" Rorek asked, looking towards the dark red symbols on his arms. Ember nodded swiftly in response, her blue orbs sparkling with curiosity.

"They are religious symbols." Rorek admitted, Silas' head snapping in the man's direction upon hearing the words 'religious symbols'.

"Good Lord! That is the Star of David with the Cross of Christianity! Are you a Messianic? I never took you as a holy man." Silas asked, easily recognizing the religious symbols, a level of excitement and fascination in his voice. Rorek glanced briefly at the conjoined symbols on his arm, licking his lips slightly to speak only to be cut off by Ember.

"A mess...what? What's that?" Ember asked, confused by the strange word.

"A Messianic is a person of Jewish descent, however, they have accepted Jesus Christ as their savior. It is actually insulting to most in the Jewish faith." Silas answered swiftly, noting several words in Latin seemed to be carved into the man's flesh. Most were small prayers.

"What is Jewish?" Ember asked, growing even more confused.

"Why are human's so complex creatures in their beliefs?"

"Because humans enjoy killing themselves over petty things." Spyro replied almost coldly, shifting slightly as he lowered his head on the ground.

"The Jewish are..." Silas paused, thinking of a way to simplify the context.

"The Jewish believe in God. Unlike Christians-people who worship Christianity-they do not believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of God." Silas answered, Ember nodding her head slowly in understandment.

"What is that other symbol?" Ember asked once again, her curiosity winning out.

"The one on your chest." Ember added, seeing some red through the tattered shirt.

"Alpha and Omega." Rorek answered simply, exposing his chest for Ember to get a clear view of the symbols.

"I am Alpha and Omega." Silas quoted, Ember looking at the human almost strangely.

"What does that mean?"

"God is Alpha-the beginning, and Omega-the end." Silas answered once again as Rorek covered himself.

"I feel exposed." Rorek commented, feeling Ember just staring at him, trying to comprehend the strange symbols and words in Latin that stretched on both his arms. As much as she found the human world interesting, it confused her to no end.

"You would cause quite a stir with those markings. I can see why you hide them." Silas spoke, his steel eyes falling to the sleeping baby dragons, who occasionally twitched and stirred in their slumber. Spyro dozed lightly, his large head gently pressing against their small bodies.

"How did you get those markings on your skin?" Ember asked, Silas grunting slightly.

"Witchcraft." Silas spoke before adding, "No one gets such symbols and markings naturally."

"A priest gave them to me when I was small. He said they would protect me from the things I saw." Rorek answered swiftly, as if wishing to avoid the subject.

"What...things did you see?"

"Curiosity killed the cat. Did you ever hear that, Ember?" Silas asked, the dragoness looking at the human strangely only to turn her attention back to Rorek as he sighed, giving up.

"I see things occasionally, hear things, feel things. Wherever death has been, memory follows, and will not die until the End of Time. Bluntly, I see...spirits, or demons. I am never sure, so you can never trust them. I hear many things from times long gone, and I have heard many things in Hell. And I have felt...many things. These memories, they can bring you pleasure, they can bring you pain, and they can bring you horror. When Death is near, I see, I hear, and I feel from the memories of the dead." Rorek spoke quietly, Ember listening intently.

"Did you ever have any dreams?" Ember asked softly, "Dream are important in our culture."

"You have stated this before. How so?" Silas asked, getting up and sitting in a different location to avoid the smoke.

"Well, we believe dreams can tell our futures, our destinies. They can also show us the support and love of our Ancestors. You see, when they visit us in our dreams, they whisper to us, whisper into our very souls and they allow us to reach limits that we never even knew we could achieve before." Ember answered, suddenly going quiet.

"For example...I had a dream that I was surrounded in this...black icky goo. It was around my feet, and I couldn't escape from it no matter how hard I struggled. It grew, and grew, and moved up my body. I...I couldn't scream, I couldn't move. It hurt too much to move. It covered my mouth, I couldn't breathe. And then, it all fell off, along with my scales. One by one, they all fell. And I was nothing but this...ugly corpse! When I woke up, I tricked myself into believing it was just a dream, but then I got sick. I thought I was going to die." Ember spoke, voice faltering as tears brimmed her eyes. The dragoness then laughed almost nervously, her scales flushing slightly.

"Oh, look at me! Making a big fuss out of something in the past!" Ember replied, as if embarrassed.

"The past makes us who we are, Ember. There is no need to be embarrassed over something that you could not control. If it makes you feel any better, I had a dream when I was a lad that I was being chased by a flying cow. It is humorous now, but at the time I was terrified of the bull in the pasture." Silas smiled, Ember laughing slightly.

"You have such strange dreams." Rorek commented, raising an eyebrow.

"I was a child. What else were my dreams supposed to consist of?"

"Bedding whores." Rorek spoke, smirking as Silas reddened slightly before laughing nervously, recovering.

"Hahaha! I had a dream Berend and I went to a whorehouse, but then Father found us and dragged us out of there by our ears. The next day, there were about ten pregnant harlots at our doorstep and my father started smacking me with a broom, yelling 'By God, what did you do!?' Hahahaha!" Silas laughed, Ember laughing as her scales seemed to flush even more.

"My, my, someone got busy. I bet your dream self got a disease! Of course, I should not be talking considering I had my fair share of whores." Rorek replied, thrusting his hips in a playful manner as Ember suddenly burst out laughing, saliva flying from her mouth as she seemed to turn completely red.

Silas reddened from the awkwardness of the sexual display and jumped slightly as Spyro's eyes snapped open, the male dragon agitated from being awoken.

"By the Ancestors, what's going on? " Spyro asked, hissing slightly as he saw Ember struggling for breath, tears of laughter streaming down her snout. Silas just stared in horror at the large male, as if the knight were afraid the male would attack. Rorek just stared at the fire, possibly pretending nothing strange was going on.

"We...made Ember laugh." Rorek responded, voice calm as Silas cleared his throat.

"He made Ember laugh." Silas corrected, Spyro looking at the human with suspicion before turning his attention to his chicks, the babies making quiet chirps from being startled.

"Oh! Oh, my!...I...I can't breathe!..." Ember cried, the dragoness slowly calming down, gasping for breath as she giggled every so often.

Spyro nuzzled each baby gently, the chicks calming in the protection of their father before falling asleep. Ember's occasional giggle still split the air every few minutes, but the red shade had left her scales.

"You mentioned that you had a daughter before, am I correct?" Silas asked, Rorek turning towards the knight, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"Yes, I do have one."

"What is her name, if I may ask?"

"Sophia." Rorek responded after a several second's pause.

"That's a pretty name." Ember commented before adding, "Does it mean anything?"

"Sophia means 'wisdom' in Greek. Vivica wanted to name her that. Of course, I guess it is better that what I wanted to name her."

"What did you want to name her?"

"Harley." Rorek answered, Silas shaking his head.

"You really do like whores." Silas commented, biting his tongue from speaking harsher words. He couldn't help but feel offended that Anaya, HIS Duchess had bedded this man that slept with whores. It was disgusting, really.

"Tis' true." Rorek stated simply, Ember smiling as she looked at the chicks, safe from harm in their father's claws.

"Do you have any names for them, Spyro?" Ember asked, excitement filling her voice, the purple male looking at her before laughing slightly.

"Honestly, no. Cynder thought of the names, and she wanted to keep them a secret from me. I only wish I knew so that I could name them." Spyro admitted, this amethyst eyes never leaving the last survivors of his brood.

"Well, do you have any ideas?" Ember asked, Spyro shaking his head.

"No. Do you?"

"Harley." Rorek blurted out, Spyro looking at the human in disgust.

"Harley is not a dragons name." Silas stated, Rorek shrugging in response.

"That is all I have." Rorek sighed, going back to staring at the fire and occasionally glance at the shadows.

"Hmmmmmmm..." Silas paused, trying to think of dragon sounding names. He only knew three, so he didn't have much to go on.

"Torrent?" Silas asked, Spyro shaking his head.

"No. One is air and other...well, I'm not sure yet."

"How can you tell one is air?"

"By his scale color." Ember answered, the group falling into silence.

"Gust?" Silas asked, trying to think of words that were wind related.

"No." Spyro answered

"Typhoon?"

"Ewww! That's horrible, Silas!"

"...I am only trying to help, Ember."

"That's okay. Ummm, Squall?"

"No, sorry."

"Like you are any better at names..."

"Oh, hush, knight!" Ember cried.

"Hurricane?" Silas asked, Spyro looking at the human strangely, both remaining quiet.

"I shall take that as a 'no'."

"Tornado?"

"No, Ember." Spyro sighed, feeling his head begin to hurt.

"Cyndra!" Ember cried, Silas flinching as Spyro shook his head, frowning.

"Nero? Oedipus? Laius? Jocasta? Tiresias? Ada? Ozwald?...Brago?" Silas listed, quickly running out as he gave up, shrugging his shoulders.

"Oh! Flora? Fauna? Flara? Cynthia!" Ember cired, Spyro flinching at every name they listed.

"Uhhh...no...thanks." Spyro spoke, not at all liking the names as Ember slumped down, giving up.

"This is hard." Ember whined, Rorek clapping his hands.

"Bravo! You two shall make excellent parents. I can see it now..." Rorek spoke, sarcasm dripping off his tongue like venom.

"They are better than being named after a harlot." Silas muttered, Spyro looking on in defeat.

"I wish I knew the names Cynder had thought of." Spyro replied, sighing. It was at that moment Ember's eyes widened in excitement.

"Ohh! Spyro! I have the perfect names!"

"What are they, Ember?" Spyro asked, regretting to even ask as Ember sucked in air to speak, chest puffing in pride.

"Arias and Seraphina!" Ember cried, excitement in her voice as she jumped up and down in place. Silas looked at the pink dragoness and raised an eyebrow.

"Arias and...Seraphina?" Spyro asked, not entirely liking the names.

"Yes! Arias loosely means 'wind' in Latin! And-and Seraphina means 'burning one'!" Ember replied, eyes shining as Spyro chewed over the names in his head.

"They are human names..."

"So? If you don't like them, you can always change them before the babies get too attached to them! Maybe we'll think of better ones, but I personally think they are perfect for the little darlings!" Ember squealed in excitement, Rorek shrugging his shoulders.

"That is better than what I can come up with."

"Hmmm...Arias...and Seraphina...Arias...Seraphina...Arias and Seraphina..." Spyro whispered to himself, looking at each chick respectfully as he spoke their possible names. He had to admit, they were growing on him, and Ember did have a point about replacing the names.

"Alright! Arias and Seraphina it is! Thank you, Ember." Spyro thanked, his eyes warm and loving as he smiled.

"Yay!" Ember squealed, ecstatic.

"Ember, can you watch them-Arias and Seraphina-for me? There's something I need to do." Spyro asked, Ember nodding as the male got up and the dragoness took his place in keeping the chicks safe and warm.

"Hello, Arias and Seraphina! I'm your Auntie Ember! Don't worry, Daddy will be back in a little while." Ember cooed, nuzzling the babies as they huddled into her for warmth.

Looking around, Spyro approached the mouth of the cave, seeing the burning fire in the nearby distance. Finding no one nearby, Spyro disappeared into the darkness of the cave, his eyes easily adjusting as he traveled to the nest.

Approaching the now dead nest, Spyro sniffed it, the barely smoldering nest containing several eggs, their hearts having stilled long ago. Almost gently, Spyro began to paw at the nest, and stones that had protected the eggs from the direct blast crumbling to the ground.

Spyro produced a deep, guttural growl as his pupils suddenly narrowed, becoming cat like slits. Salty tears began to fall onto the cold stone ground, the remaining tears running down Spyro's snout and onto his eggs as he opened his jaws and cracked the shell open.

Almost violently, Spyro ripped the dead chick out of its prison, instinctively shaking it back and forth, his bite force snapping its bones as he threw the dead chick back and swallowed it whole. By the time Spyro could regain his senses, several small limbs, egg shells, and stones littered the floor.

"Oh, Ancestors...what have I done?" Spyro asked, taking the blood of his offspring on his teeth, the flesh clinging to his teeth. Pieces of eggshell and yolk clung to his snout as he stood, horrified.

Spyro's feet began to shake as they gave out underneath him, the purple dragon releasing a heart wrenching sob. He wasn't aware of what he was doing at the time, but the worse part was that the male dragon was aware, and controlled his actions during the feast. Even as the tears fell down his draconic skull, wanting to stop, he couldn't. It was instinct, and his instincts told him what he needed to do to survive. And he loved it.

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**Poor, Spyro. Like Spyro's character? Hate it? It's up you. Either way, I hope you all are happy with the baby dragon names. Don't forget, the voting poll it still open so feel free to vote! If you have any other character pairing that you want feel free to message me or something and I'll put it on. For some reason I keep thinking Silas and Anaya but she's dead. Well, I hope you all enjoyed and please review! And as a further note, I apologize for any fans Of Gods and Legends, but it's dead. RIP Of Gods and Legends! **


	15. History's Wrath

**Hello! Here is the next chapter! I appologize if it kinda skipped around, but I was at a lose on how to start it. Things are starting to heat up. I hope you all enjoy!**

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Ember looked on with horror in her eyes, mouth open in disbelief at the image of brutality and slaughter before her. Beside her stood Silas, the man emotionless as his steel eyes matched the color of the thick smoke that plagued the air, and heavy scent of blood and decay hitting his nostrils. The pair stood at the edge of a field, or what looks like was a farm. The land was now stained with blood, and the bodies that littered the ground seemed to reach thousands.

"How could anyone do such horrible things?" Ember asked, her scale color paling as she began to wobble back and forth, as if she were going to faint.

"I told you not to come here." Silas spoke, voice monotone as he looked at the dragoness. She obviously wasn't used to death. At least mass amounts of it.

"I...didn't know..." Ember forced out, laying down, unable to take the death.

"I told you not to come. This is not your plight." Silas commented, but refused to look at Ember.

Smoothly, a bit numbly, Silas moved to the scene of the battle, carefully turning over the dead men. Each one he knew. Each face he knew. Some, however, he didn't, and he could only guess that they were from another region in Germany.

It was almost impossible to avoid stepping on a body, and many times Silas had slipped on the blood drenched ground. Silas took his time to inspect every body he found, closing their eyes, praying, or even comforting them in their passing. The men that were alive were too far gone to be saved, and Silas had no interest on asking who had won the battle when they were about to cross.

Pausing, Silas turned to look for Ember, and saw a pink blob in the distance. He didn't mind if she stayed there all day. She was better off.

"This is odd. Why do I feel nothing?" Silas asked himself, the man looking at another body, remembering his face. It was true. He felt nothing for these men. No rage, sadness, mercy. Nothing. Perhaps all his emotional energy was drained?

Silas shook his head, releasing a soft chuckle. It was horrible, he knew, but he was actually beginning to feel like his old self. He wasn't doing this-looking at the faces of dead and dying men that would haunt him out of any emotional satisfaction or pity. He was doing it because it was the right thing to do. He did it because of duty, of honor. These men were his kin, his brother, his countrymen. It didn't matter that they died for William or Eamon. They were all brothers in arms, and each one deserved his respect.

Silas didn't bother to count the hours as the early morning rays turned to dusk. He took no break from his grave task either, his hands torn, cut and stained red with blood as well as his feet and knees. He did hear the soft groans of disgust from Ember as the dragoness tried to maneuver towards him, but she was rather slow in reaching him. Pausing to look around, it appeared that Silas almost done, the knight flexing his hands as dried blood made them uncomfortable.

Upon seeing Ember approach, Silas waited until she reached him, and still continued to tend to some of the bodies. The dragoness stopped as she neared him, her eyes rimmed with sorrow.

"Silas, you don't have to do this. You've done enough for today." Ember stated, uncomfortable with the smells and blood. She was still squeamish.

"A task does not end up because the sun goes down." Silas reasoned, Ember tooling at the human with sadness.

"Why do you do this to yourself? I'm sure your God is happy with you."

"This has nothing to do with God, Ember. This is something I must do." Silas spoke, the slight annoyance in his voice causing Ember to back away.

"You can leave if you wish." Silas spoke, Ember glancing at him, as if offended.

"I won't leave you, Silas. You're my friend." Ember replied, smiling sullenly, completely frowning as Silas just sighed.

"Bastard was right."

"Excuse me?" Ember asked, an eye crest rising as she looked at the knight, stunned that he had used such language. It was then that she realized his hands were clenched into firsts, and his arms were shaking.

"The Necromancer was correct." Silas stated, sighing to calm himself, though Ember wasn't sure if it was working.

"Right about what?" Ember asked, slight concern in her voice. She didn't understand why the knight seemed so...angery all of a sudden. And when he would normally respond with some sort of emotion, he barely responded.

"The war. Ember, I'm going to join, and I don't want you to follow me." Silas suddenly spoke after a slight pause, Ember completely freezing.

"Go? W...What? Why?"

"You need not worry. This does not concern you nor Spyro." Silas spoke, Ember's mouth agape as sadness shown in her eyes.

"Silas, this does concern me! You're my friend!" Ember responded, hurt as Silas shook his head.

"No, it does not. This concerns Rorek and myself, and we have spoken about this. The Duke needs us."

"Spyro and I need you! No! You two can't go! You don't have to fight in this stupid human war-"

"Then what would you have me do?! I understand that you do not understand our culture or reasons for fighting, and I respect that, but please respect mine and allow me to serve as a man. I cannot just ignore this, Ember! These men are my brothers, my kin! I value your friendship, I truly do, but...I must do this! I refuse to stand by twiddling my thumbs while my country bleeds and dies!" Silas cried, Ember deeply hurt by his words, yet couldn't help but admire his passion.

"I...see...I'm sorry." Ember replied sadly, Silas softening as he sighed, shoulders slumping.

"I appologize for my actions, but I have had a lot on my mind as of late. I failed for before for not taking action, so now I am taking action."

"You still don't have to go alone." Ember replied, Silas looking at her, but then swiftly look away.

"Oh, Ember, no. Too many innocents have died by my account, and I refuse to allow any more be a part of those numbers."

"Oh. Can I ask who?"

"I feel like they are best not spoken of." Silas muttered softly, looking on at the field of bodies.

"Why is there a war?" Ember asked, looking in at all the bodies. She couldn't help but sorrow at the fact that her friend may very well become one of the dead.

"A disagreement of power within the royal family." Silas lied slightly. Yes, it was a power struggle, but there was more too it.

"And who would you fight for?"

"The Grand Duke." Silas replied after a pause, licking his lips slightly before continuing.

"He saved my life, and my loyalty is the very least I can offer him."

"Is he winning?" Ember prodded once more, her heart beating in terror. Why were humans such weak creatures?

"Truthfully? No." Silas avoided looking at the dragoness. He could feel her anger rise.

"No? Then why even go and fight when you will die?! There's no point!" Ember roared, Silas flinching at the shrillness of her voice.

"If no one tried we would still be primitive creatures. And who would care were I to die? In time, no one shall remember us at all, not me, not Anaya, not Rorek. Not even you. Our names, our actions, our memories? That shall all be lost to history. The ones that future generations shall remember? Those are the ones who were the victors of history. If I die then so be it. I died damn well fighting for what I believed in, and once more I know it is right! Right now, there is an evil man trying to erase us, but we cannot allow that to happen! If we fail, all those innocents, all those people-every man, woman and child who died in this war shall cease to matter-cease to exist! I don't...fear death, dying. But I fear dying in vain. If I could save just one person, I would be happy. But this is why I want to go to war as horrible as it sounds. I want to change history, change what has already been written." Silas went off on a rant, and reddened slightly in embarrassment.

"Sorry." Silas muttered softly, and noticed Ember had tears in her eyes.

"I never thought a human could be so passionate." Ember spoke softly, and smiled sadly.

"I know this means a lot to you, now. I can't stop you from going can I?" Ember asked gently as Silas shook his head.

"I fear not. Rorek and I shall leave first thing tomorrow." Silas informed, Ember's eyes widening in shock.

"T-Tomorrow? So soon!" Ember cried in dismay. Silas couldn't help but feel bad.

"Yes, but do not worry. Spyro and the babies shall be with you. I never got to thank you for naming the female after my mother, so I thank you." Silas smiled gently.

"Oh, don't...don't bother. She had a pretty name. When will you return?" Silas fell silent at that question.

"I am not sure. There is always a chance of one not returning." Silas spoke, Ember looking crestfallen.

"Come, let us return to the nest. I have a feeling I will have nightmares for weeks to come." Silas suggested, Ember nodding in response as they walked through the bloody field.

Ember released a deep sigh, the dragoness remaining quiet as she followed the knight. She couldn't imagine what she would do if more if her friends died. Flame's death had hit her the hardest, and it felt like her heart would just stop beating.

Silas continued to walk, feeling a jumble of emotions. Rage. Guilt. Sadness. Shame. Mainly rage at himself. He began to think back to his past, and how simple it used to be. And then he ended up here. He could only wonder how the hell he even ended up here, and mused that he had become friends with a dragon. Berend would be excited of this prospect. He was slow to admitt it, but Silas actually missed having his cousin follow him around constantly.

Silas was broke out of his thoughts by a warm muzzle resting in his shoulder. He could feel his heart sink at that. He may have devastated poor Ember. She didn't say a word, and just rested her head on his shoulder as they walked.

Sighing, Silas began to pet her snout in a calming manner, as if Ember were a horse. Ember would most likely be offended if she knew, but she reminded Silas of Brago. Poor thing. Silas missed that horse.

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**Poor Ember and Silas. Mainly Ember I think. It's it just me, or does Silas seem to becoming emotionally closed off? I'm not sure if that's a good or bad development. I appologize for the short chapter, but I hope you all enjoyed Silas' rant. Thank you to all who support this story and please review! :)**


	16. Wolf Pack

**In case any of you don't know, chapter 15 is properly updated. Both of these chapters are short, and I appologize. Please enjoy!**

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"Hmph. What a pity. Another subject has fled." A hooded figure muttered, holding a bloody embalming tool. The room was dark and eerily quiet with only the sound of blood dripping onto the floor, echoing throughout the small chamber that was lined with dim candles.

A low growl erupted from the darkness, the man smirking as he saw a single eye cut through the darkness like a bleeding sun.

"Kill." The man spoke, a shrill scream erupting through the air as a decaying corpse bolted past the man, it's paws slapping on the ground as if it was wet with water, several loud sounds of wet flesh hitting the cold floor.

Two more creatures passed in the shadows, one growling as its paws hit the ground. The other made odd clinking noises in rapid succession as it passed, the sound of its claws scraping against the floor.

The man looked at the lone blood light that emitted through the darkness, a black mist cutting out the weak light that was emitted by the candles, snuffing out their flame. A shroud of black mist gently wisped around the room, the temperature dropping a few degrees as the man's breath became visible. Yet the beast before him breathed not. As the mist drew farther away from the beast's face, he could see half of it's face was skeletal, a black eye socket that was blacker than look dulling in comparison to the hellish eye that cut through the blackness. The jowls were armed with serrated fangs that could easily snare a victim.

Just as the mist appeared, it vanished. The man could feel the cave begin to warm as he smirked.

The hounds gave chase to their prey, shrill screams echoing through the forest as a hound yowled, ushering its prey harder to tire it out.

Through the dead forest they pursued, through rocky cliffs, rivers and fields. And it was then that their prey fell to the ground exhausted.

A small girl sobbed, bloody and bruised as the pack surrounded her. The walking corpse screamed a bloody cry, blood flying out of it's jowls as its voice box ripped. The boned hound clanked and moved in unnatural ways, staring at the prey as its claws flexed. The other two circles their prey, watching, waiting. Suddenly, they all swarmed the girl, and her horrendous cries broke through the sky, the hounds ripping limbs, flesh and bone. Yet she still screamed, was somehow still alive.

Then, the forest became still, quiet. Not even the girl made any noise save a last sigh before stilling in her passing. Even the hounds seemed to be quiet, as if respecting the dead. There was barely anything left but the partially eaten head and stem, blood and various prints surrounding the body. The pack had vanished into the night, having done there deed. Nothing remained but the head and partially eaten spinal chord.

"Sophia, NO!" Rorek screamed shrilly, jolting violently awake as his chest heaved up and down rapidly, his body drenched in sweat.

Rorek looked around the small clearing in the still night air, only hearing the sound of the crickets.

Releasing a startled breath, Rorek wiped the tears from his eyes that had fallen in his sleep. It felt like his heart would burst it was beating so fast in terror.

"Just a dream, just a dream, just a dream..." Rorek whispered to himself, visibly shaking as he began to hear a deep laugh from within.

"**Awww...how sweet. What a good father you are to worry about your delicate, precious daughter.**" Malefor mocked, Rorek ignoring the purple dragon within him as he wiped the sweat from his hair.

"Sophia...my baby, oh, my poor baby!" Rorek muttered to himself, beginning to rock back and forth as Malefor chuckled.

"**But of course. Keep telling yourself that it was a dream. But make no mistake-what you saw was real.**"

"No, no you lie!" Rorek hissed, shaking his head.

"**Oh really? I know everything about you, human. You wanted to kill that little hatchling...break it's pathetic neck the same way you broke that human child's**."

"Lying piece of shit!" Rorek growled, crying in pain as he felt the dragon assault his mind.

"**Don't you dare rise your voice to me! You have no control**!" Malefor roared, Rorek twitching slightly in pain.

"**You wanted to kill that chick, just like you wanted to kill that pathetic knight**!"

"K...Knight? No! I don't turn on my friends like a coward!"

"**Is that so? Then why do you have thoughts of slitting his throat**?"

"It is your damned poison!" Rorek snarled, feeling the pain subside as his anger grew.

"**You feared he would take your mate away! You wanted him gone!**"

"Shut up! All you do is speak horrible lies! My daughter is safe! I know, I can feel her!"

"**Silence! What do you know? Do you even know that she still cares for you? You abandoned her and allowed her to be bred by her own sibling**."

"I didn't know! I didn't know! I stopped it, I would have killed him! She knows I did it out of love."

"**Yet she fears you now! Fears the rage her father has! You said so yourself, your child shall grow to hate you, to fear you. How can** **you deny that**?"

"Silence!" Rorek yelled, suddenly pulling out his dagger and began hacking at his own wrists, blood beginning to pour onto the ground.

"Shut up! Shut up! SHUT UP!" Rorek screamed shrilly before throwing his dagger on the ground and put his lips to his bleeding wrist, sucking on the blood.

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**Yay for Rorek's mental breakdown! Not really, it's horrible. Poor guy. I didn't do anything with Malefor in a while, so I made this little chapter for him and Rorek's depleting sanity. I would go insane too. I hope you all enjoyed and thank you for supporting this story! :)**


	17. The Truth

**Hello, dear readers! Here is the next chapter, so please enjoy!**

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"Did you sleep well, Ember?" Spyro asked, the dragoness' moments sluggish as she stired.

"Hmmm? Oh...not really." Ember responded, the female sighing as she noticed both humans were up, trying to ignore the snapping dragon chicks at their heels.

"Why are those two up so early? Are they leaving?" Spyro asked, noticing that the men had been just standing around, as if waiting to say goodbye.

"They didn't tell you?" Ember asked, Spyro almost snorting in reply.

"No. They don't like me as much as you." Spyro replied, watching Arias chase a butterfly around the clearing, his jaws snapping at it with hostility. Seraphina just waddled behind the knight, following him like a tail.

"They are leaving for war, something about a power struggle I think. And don't be silly. They like you." Ember snapped slightly, Spyro rolling his eyes.

"Sure they do. You never told me what caused that smoke in the pasture. What took you so long?" Spyro observed, Ember sighing as she hesitated to answer.

"The...field was piled with bodies. Silas didn't want to leave, he...he felt honor bound to search the bodies." Ember replied, Spyro looking at her with slight pitty.

"I'm sorry you had to see that, Ember. But do you understand what I mean? All humans do is kill."

"Silas didn't kill. There were some that were alive, but...they were dying. You should have seen them, Spyro. Some looked so terrified, so hopeless. Silas...he helped ease them in their passing." Ember spoke, voice soft.

"Mark my words, Ember. Whether you admit it or not, Silas will eventually turn and kill, as well as the other one. I only pray to the Ancestors that you are not their next victim." Spyro spoke, Ember looking at the larger male, her eyes narrowing, as if offended.

"Oh, would you stop it! Silas wouldn't hurt a fly!" Ember growled, defending her friend as the adults turned to the human in question, the young knight playing with Seraphina as he wrestled her with his arms.

"And what of the other one?" Spyro asked, Ember rolling her eyes.

"What? You suspect Rorek too? Why?" Ember asked, the purple dragon looking at her in disbelief.

"Ancestors, Ember! Did you see that look in his eyes? It's dark, even for a human. Did you look at him lately? He looks like a walking corpse-very pale!"

"Rorek was always pale." Ember replied, sighing.

"Not that pale last time I checked. He seems shaken too." Spyro muttered, Ember looking at the Necromancer standing near a tree. It seemed to be his favorite. The man was always near it. Spyro was right. The man appeared almost sick, his skin a pasty white, sweat beading on his brow and eyes lined and red, as if he were suffering from a fever. His breathing appeared slow, and shallow, as if he were physically and mentally exhausted. Ember barely noticed the makeshift bandage on his wrist, the black cloth slightly darkened with a deep red. She couldn't tell if the blood was fresh or dried, but she saw the section that Rorek had torn his robe for the dressing.

"Oh, my! What happened to him?" Ember asked, the purple dragon shrugging.

"I don't know. He was like that when I got up." Spyro answered, Ember looking over at the man with worry.

"Oh, no. Poor Rorek." Ember replied, her head snapping to Silas as she heard him coo at the black drakeling that was reaching for his pouch.

"No, no, chicky, I have nothing for you." Silas replied, pushing Seraphina away as the chick began to whine.

"What? What do you want? I have nothing." Silas replied gently, showing his empty hands. Seraphina wiggled with anticipation. Sighing, Silas gave up.

"Fine." Silas muttered, reaching into his pouch to pull out dried venison, Seraphina chirping as she latched onto the meat, gnawing on it.

Arias turned his head, smelling the salted meat, a long butterfly wing sticking out of his mouth before the chick swiftly swallowed it. Eager for more food, the white drake stumbled toward his sibling before joining in the feast.

Silas smiled softly before sighing, his steel eyes moving from chick to chick.

"I never had the chance of meeting my mother. Nothing I say can ever make my actions right for taking yours away. I am sorry." Silas apologized softly, crossing his arms as he looked at Rorek, the man still under the tree. Rorek looked at him, both men knowing it was time.

Sighing slightly, Rorek moved towards the knight, Silas piercing his lips together upon seeing the horrible state the man seemed to be in, but kept quiet.

"Shall we say goodbye?" Silas asked, Rorek shrugging.

"If you wish." Rorek responded, voice weak and cracking.

"Very well." Silas muttered, walking toward the pair of adult dragons, Ember walking to meet him upon seeing the knight approach. Silas stopped and smiled at the dragoness, Ember producing a weak smile as she looked sullenly at the knight.

"You know you don't have to do this, Silas..." Ember faltered, thinking for some kind of logical argument to try and convince the man to stay without sounding childish, but could not.

"No, Ember. I started this, and by God, I am going to see it to the end even if it means my own death." Silas spoke, shaking his head as Rorek simply nodded, not in the mood to talk as he wiped the film of sweat from his forehead.

Ember opened her mouth to speak, but found herself at a loss for words. How could you convince someone you care about to stay safe when their heart was set on their death so passionately? And for what cause, Ember could only guess. She didn't understand human culture and society, and probably never will. It wasn't fair.

"I..." Ember struggled to speak, but felt like a lump had formed in her throat as her mouth suddenly dried, and tears began to well in her eyes. She could feel her heart lurch in pain and worry for her friends as she shook her head. She didn't understand. What sort of creature would willingly walk to their own death?

"I'm scared that you'll die." Ember admitted, her eyes glancing from both men back and forth, and she saw Rorek's glazed, half lidded eyes look at her with recognition and understanding as he emitted a breathless chuckle.

"No mortal soul has...ever been able to resist the beckon of Death." Rorek spoke, shaking himself slightly, as if to keep himself awake.

"He speaks the truth, Ember. We shall all die, and I do not that think that we need to fear death. Death's second self brings us pleasure, so why should we fear death when it is not an end, but a passage? Death may appear strong, and all powerful, but in reality Death is weak, and dying. In time, Death itself shall die, and should not be feared, but rather pitied." Silas spoke gently, Ember shaking her head as tears began to flow.

"No, I...I don't understand..." Ember cried, her body being racked with sorrow.

"When Death is upon you, you shall understand." Silas responded, looking on sadly at the pink dragon as he touched her snout and petted it, almost like a horse, and flinched when the dragon started sobbing uncontrollably in loud, slightly obnoxious gasps. Ember was worse than Anaya...not that he minded it much. At least Anaya's cries didn't hurt his ears. Silas guessed it was because dragons had stronger lungs.

Without warning, Ember picked up the man with her talons and pulled him into a hug, the poor knight once again being crushed against her creme chest scales. Silas grunted, feeling his back crack as he struggled against the dismayed dragon's grip before giving up, and went limp like a rag doll.

After several seconds of being trapped, Silas was put back down to the ground, the man taking in a deep breath, Ember looking at him, as if wanting to speak.

"I...I hope you come back, Silas. I'm glad that I can have humans for friends. Besides, you are my first human friend." Ember smiled sadly, Silas returning the gesture.

"I am proud to call you my friend, Ember." Silas responded, Rorek spitting onto the ground, looking like he was about to keel over.

"Why do I feel like I am being ignored in this conversation?" Rorek muttered quietly to himself, feeling a pair of eyes upon him as he looked. It was the sapphire eyes of the pink dragon.

"I'm going to miss you, too." Ember spoke, smiling as Rorek simply nodded.

"It...was a pleasure." Rorek responded, flinching as he saw Ember's talons move out to grab him, but the dragoness paused, not wanting to hurt the man. Instead, the pink dragoness lowered her head and nuzzled the human, feeling his sweat rub off onto her scales.

"I hope you get better, Rorek. Stay away from horrible, smelly things, okay?" Ember asked, licking his cheek, feeling his skin to be pasty and very cold as she looked at the human with worry.

"That I shall, dear. And do not worry about me, Ember, I shall be fine." Rorek replied, wiping the saliva away with his hand as he felt the spit connect his hand and cheek. Ember grinned sheepishly.

"Sorry."

"Farewell, Ember. I pray that this will not be the last time we meet." Silas spoke, Ember saying nothing as she nodded sadly, watching Silas walk towards Spyro. Rorek hesitated, but followed as he gave the dragoness a half wave in farewell.

"I feel disgusting...tired of being covered in sweat..." Rorek muttered, both men stopping in their strides as the purple man stared at them, his eyes skeptical.

"You two are leaving, right?" Spyro asked.

"That is correct." Silas responded, looking over to see Rorek wobbling in place, as if dizzy before slightly elbowing him.

"Oh!...and...we thank you for...your hospitality...or something..." Rorek muttered, obviously out of it as he shook his head, the man refocusing.

"You are welcome." Spyro replied, the tone of his voice not sounding interested in the least. Silas looked at the male, and took a shaky breath.

"I wish you well on raising your family, Spyro. I am sorry for what our kind has done to you. I understand what your children are going through, what they will go through. I...never knew my mother either." Silas stopped himself, flushing slightly as he realized he was speaking so much. Spyro only seeked to be half listening, as if he couldn't wait for the humans to leave.

"We should go now." Rorek stated, having an odd feeling form in the pit of his stomach.

"I mean...my mother died when I just a babe-ow!"

"Quiet!" Rorek hissed, suddenly alert as he roughly elbowed the man. Spyro raised an eye crest, curious on why the one was blabbing so much. Ember craned her neck to see what was happening, nosey.

"My mother...she was killed-not by another, oh, no-but by plague." Silas stuttered, a sudden wave a nervousness in his voice. Ember's scales began to drain, and Rorek began to drag the bumbling knight away before he said anything more stupid.

"Silas! Quiet!" Rorek hissed, Silas refusing to budge.

"No! If I die, I shall never be able to rest in peace. He has a right to know! I am tired of lying." Silas whispered back, the male dragon now looking at the pair with annoyance.

"Oh, Ancestors what are you trying to say?" Spyro hissed, fire bubbling underneath his scales, Silas breaking free of Rorek's grip.

"NO! Damned idiot!"

"I did it! I am the one that robbed you of your mate, robbed your children of their mother! Look upon this ill man, for I am ill with guilt. Lord, I killed Cynder!"

* * *

**Poor Silas. He finally cracked under the guilt. I can't blame him though. honestly don't know how specifically Spyro will react to that. It might not end well. Also, I have started something called Dishonored: Extras which some of you may have read already. They just are scenes that I wanted to put into Dishonored, but felt like they didn't fit. Check them out if you get bored and please review. :) **


	18. Spreading Darkness

**Oh my God, I hope you guys are happy! I have to force with baby out and now my fingers hurt something terrible. Well, either way who's ready to see Silas get ripped to shreds? Place your bets!**

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Silas' eyes widened in terror as he saw the once purple hue of Spyro's scales turn black, and his amethyst eyes glaze over in a demonic white film as shadowed mist poured from his very being. Silas barely had anytime to unsheath his sword before raising his shield, Spyro's claws scraping the twin eagle and scarring the metal as Silas was knocked off his feet, landing heavily on his back after having been thrown a few good feet.

Spyro's roar boomed throughout the forest, birds flying away in terror as the chicks chirped and squeaked in distress. Rorek backed up, sweat now dripping down his face as he pulled out a small hidden dagger, slightly remembering that it was the very one that he tried to kill Corbin with upon seeing Silas struggle to get up, dazed. His movements didn't seem normal. He had to be wounded, for Rorek heard a pop filling the air amongst the sound of talon scraping metal.

"Spyro! Stop! What are you doing?!" Ember cried, moving between him and the chicks as black mist poured from Spyro's open maw, his dead eyes looking upon the dragoness.

"You knew!" The black dragon snarled, baring his fangs as Ember's eyes widened in fear.

"S-Spyro...no! I-I didn't!" Ember stammered, the pink dragoness backing up as she pushed the siblings farther back, her wings spread out in a protective manner to increase her size. Ember's blue eyes glanced desperately from Spyro to Rorek, the man's eyes sharp like a predator, as if sizing Spyro up for any weakness or opening, seeking where to strike his quarry. The dragoness' eyes then moved to Silas, the knight now standing on his feet, a bit wobbly. She noticed something was wrong. He seemed to be hurt.

"You lied to me, Ember! What's worse, you defended these humans from a crime you claimed they didn't commit!" Spyro growled, the shadowed mist spilling forth, wrapping around the grass as they slowly died, their once lush green hue turning brown and dry.

"I was defending them from you! Spyro, can't you see? It was an accident! Cynder was at the wrong place and wrong time, as was Silas! He was defending himself! What was he supposed to do? Let Cynder kill him? Spyro, I...I know this isn't you-this darkness! The real Spyro I know is kind, and gentle, and he would never wish death on anyone, or anything bad!" Ember cried in desperation as the male approached, his maw twisting in a sick snarl as he chuckled.

"Such a childish thing you are! The Spyro you knew is dead! The old dragon you knew died when my love ceased to be in this world as the hands of a pathetic human! Why do you keep defending them?!" Spyro snarled, his voice deep and dark as Ember gulped, the men pausing, considering a choice of action.

"Because...Because this isn't what Cynder would want! Cynder would want you to move on, Spyro! To-To live! To be a father! To see your children grow, to be and see all the things that she won't be able to be or see anymore!" Ember cried, backing up as the male hissed, his massive wings outstretched in a threatening manner.

"And all those things were taken away from humans! Don't you see? They must be destroyed! The whole damned race must be destroyed or we will all die!"

"Spyro, no! Can't you see? Not all humans are bad! You can't destroy a whole race just because some are evil! Ancestors, Spyro! Think of your children! They don't deserve to see you like this!" Ember cried in desperation, Spyro's eyes narrowing on the drakelings.

"My children? Mahahahahaaa! My children? They are not my children, yet they are mine! They are the purple one's, yet they are mine! Hmmmmm, and I think it is appropriate for them so see what their...daddy is capable of, do you not? They are tainted, as are you! Tainted by human filth! What reason should I spare you for your taint? Or the little chicks?" Spyro asked, his forked tongue slipping in and out as Ember's pupils narrowed, the dragoness baring her fangs as she growled lowly, viously.

"Don't you even dare touch these children." Ember hissed, Rorek reading his blade as looked at the knight briefly.

"Are you well?" Rorek asked, Silas nodding in response.

"Yes, but my shield arm is numb. I fear it has been dislocated again." Silas swiftly informed, his sword arm ready as Rorek sighed.

"That explained the pop." Rorek commented abit dryly.

"Strike when he comes for me." Silas ordered softly, steeling himself.

"Sever the tendons." Rorek added, Silas stepping forward and whistling shrilly, Spyro's head instantly snapping towards the man's direction, a shrill hiss escaping his jaws.

"Leave them be! It is me whom you want, dragon! Come! Avenge the death of your mate!" Silas challenged, Spyro roaring in rage as he lunged towards the knight. Silas narrowly dodged the attack, his sword swinging as Spyro's head lurched down from the strike, hissing as blood seeped down his snout, the darkness rushing over the wound, as if healing it.

Grunting, Spyro nearly fell as his hind leg suddenly fell limp, the black male suddenly unable to move it as a sharp pain shot up his leg from a blade slicing through his scales only to heat up the warmth of his blood. Roaring in rage, Spyro's tail slammed against Rorek, sending the man flying and the small blade dropping to the ground as Rorek roughly landed on the ground before skidding to a halt.

"No!" Silas cried, and without thinking jumped onto the cursed male, Spyro going berserk as the human managed to climb onto his back. Silas could only thank God for all those years of riding a horse without using his hands.

Spyro hissed wildly, bucking like an enraged stallion as he almost fell with his damaged leg. Spyro could feel the cold steel of a blade at his throat, and he could swear that the human had to be close to falling off at the angle.

"Do it! End my life like all the others! Show Ember the true killer that you are!" Spyro roared, Silas struggling to get his sword around the dragon's neck with his injured arm.

"I...am no murderer!" Silas cried, ramming the length of his sword against the black dragon's neck, Spyro suddenly gasping and wheezing.

"Silas, no! What are you doing?!" Ember cried in terror, the chicks fleeing in panic as Ember gasped.

"No, wait! Arias, Seraphina! Come back!" Ember called, worry laced in her voice as she noticed Rorek struggle to rise, the man falling to his knees.

"Rorek! Rorek!" Ember hissed, Rorek shaking his head before groaning, looking at the pink dragoness. It was then he heard the sounds of someone gasping and what sounded like grunts from being strained. Looking towards the commotion, his eyes widened at the display of Silas riding the once purple dragon like an angry bull.

"Rorek, go after Arias and Seraphina!" Ember ordered, pointing in the direction that they fled as Rorek hesitated, getting his bearings straight before hobbling off after them into the woods.

"Ancestors, Silas, I said stop! You're killing him!" Ember cried with worry, slamming her body into Spyro's larger one as he fell to the ground with a large thud, the very ground seeming to quake as Silas flew several feet before landing roughly onto the ground, his sword falling into the bushes.

"What has gotten into you, Silas? Spyro, Spyro, are you okay?" Ember asked, moving hesitantly towards the male as Spyro coughed and gasped for breath. Silas groaned as he got to knees, a bit awkwardly due to his use of only one hand.

"Ember, wh...what did you do that for?" Silas asked, looking for his blade but became dismayed upon finding it nowhere in sight.

"You were going to kill Spyro! What's gotten into you?!" Ember growled, turning her attention towards Spyro, his talons clutching his throat as he wheezed, Ember's eyes showing sorrow as the black mist slowly began to surround her.

"Spyro? Spyro, are you okay? Oh, please be okay." Ember whispered, her eyes filling up with tears as Silas staggered towards her.

"Ember...Ember, get away!" Silas ordered, stumbling slightly as Ember wiped her head towards the man and bared her fangs.

"Get away? Get away? You are the one who shall keep your distance! I don't want anyone to get hurt but here you two are trying to kill each other! Look what you did to Spyro, Silas! This isn't him! You know that! And now look what you have done, Silas! Spyro is dying because of you!" Ember roared.

"With a flat blade?" Silas asked, Ember's eyes widening in shock.

"A flat blade...but-"

"Ember, look out!" Silas cried, Ember gasping as she jumped back only to have Spyro's talons scrape her chest and right leg, the dragoness crying as her wings flailed.

"You shall all die! All humans and their slaves must die!" Spyro screamed shrilly, his dead eyes set to kill as he struggled to rise, his tail knocking Ember to the ground with a loud thud.

"Ember!" Silas called in worry, his eyes immediately falling to the small dagger on the ground. Instinctively, Silas dove for the blade, grunting as he landed awkwardly on his useless arm, and the harsh landing made pain shoot up his arm. Clutching the small dagger, Silas scrambled to his feet, reading it as he saw Spyro still struggle to properly get up with Ember laying motionless on the ground, a small pool of blood forming around her.

"E...Ember?" Silas whispered, terror forming in his steel eyes as he shook his head, his fist beginning to quake in rage.

"No...not again. Anaya, please guide me in this task, for I shall not fail you again. I shall not fail you or Ember. My God have mercy on our souls." Silas muttered, feeling his once shaking hand calm as he inhaled deeply before sprinting at the dragon, Spyro's demonic eyes widening as he saw the glimmer of steel.

"You bastard!" Silas screamed as the knight threw himself at the tainted dragon. Spyro roared shrilly as the small blade pierced his scaled chest, scraping at the human to get him off with his talons as both fell to the ground.

"You killed her! You killed her! You-You bastard! Not again! Not again! Never-AGAIN!" Silas screamed wildly, Spyro roaring in rage before getting a good grip on the knight and throwing him off, blood spilling over the black dragon's dulled scales as he ripped the small blade out with a pained hiss.

Silas yelped as he landed in a bush, scraping himself among the thorns as he groaned, dazed.

"I feel as if I have been in a fight with a dragon...oh, wait..." Silas paused, feeling both mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted. The sun appeared too bright for his eyes, and the sounds around him appeared too loud, the world blent together.

Silas groaned, trying to move his left arm but found he couldn't, then remembering that he dislocated it. It was then that he felt a sharp pain in his head, and he could swear that he could feel water running down his forehead.

"Wait...water..?" Silas asked, dazed at he wiped the liquid from his brow with his right hand, groaning upon seeing the blood. Of course, it always had to be blood.

Silas jumped as he heard the sound of wings on the wind, cursing as he suddenly realized why he got his concussion.

"Oh, Lord have mercy! Ember!" Silas whispered to himself, feeling his blood turn cold as he got up from his bush, tripping over an object in the process.

Gasping, Silas quickly looked down and calmed slightly upon realizing it was his sword.

"There you are." Silas muttered, leaning to pick up the blade as he nearly fell over, the young man struggling to steady himself. Looking around, Silas spotted the pink dragoness on the ground, however, Ember was now awake. She appeared to be in shock.

"Ember, Ember." Silas called, rushing towards her as he tripped slightly, the man steadying himself before going on his knees.

"Ember? It is I, Silas. Let me see..." Silas spoke softly, Ember's whole body shaking as her blue eyes stared on ahead in terror. Laying on the floor, Ember's chest was decorated with blood, and two lacerations were embedded on her chest. A smaller one scratched her leg. None appeared to be very deep. It seemed that she was just nicked.

"He...h-h-h-he tri-trick-cked me...he hurt m..me..." Ember spoke, her voice broken from terror as the dragoness hyperventilated. Tears were welled up in her eyes, however, it appeared that she couldn't cry.

"I know, Ember, I know. You will be fine. Your wounds are shallow." Silas spoke, the dragoness still shaking violently. Feeling pity for the pink dragoness, Silas put his right hand on her shoulder, Ember's breath hitching as her head shakingly turned towards the man.

"Ember, listen to me. Do not feel betrayed. That dragon that attacked you? While he may look like Spyro, he was not Spyro. If you believe that Spyro would not wish to harm anyone so strongly, then so shall I. Spyro would never harm you, me, Rork, or Arias and Seraphina. He would not. Do you understand?" Silas asked, Ember looking pasted, still shaking. Regardless, the pink dragon shook her head, a bit numbly.

"Good. Now, are you well?"

"Y...Yes." Ember responded, her nerves shaking less as her voice began to even.

"Ember..." Silas broke off, clearing his throat. "You are my friend, and while I do not wish to put you in danger I fear that I must. Spyro...is not himself. I hate to ask this of you, but I need your aid, and we cannot let him run wild so that he may harm someone else. Will you help me?" Silas asked, Ember immediately nodding her head.

"Yes! You...you helped me many times...I think I should return the favor." Ember replied, a slight smile forming on her face, causing Silas to chuckle slightly.

"So you are with me 'till the bitter end, eh?" Silas asked, Ember nodded enthusiastically, any evidence of her pain gone.

"Till the end!" Ember chirped.

"But what of the chicks?" Silas asked, Ember pausing slightly before nodding.

"Oh, don't worry! I sent Rorek after them!" Ember replied, Silas falling silent. He didn't have a good feeling about that.

"Yes, well..." Silas began looking around to the sky.

"How strong are your wings?"

* * *

"Damned Draconis!" Rorek hissed, pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow, coughing as blood seeped passed his lips.

"I shall kill that giant lizard." Rorek muttered, limiting his number of breaths in vain to lessen the pain.

"**And his offspring**." Malefor added, Rorek growling.

"Silence." Rorek hissed, stumbling slightly as he leaned on a tree for support.

"**When will you finally surrender, I wonder? Your barriers are weakening, human."**

"I am still strong enough to keep you at bay."

"**Not for long. Look at you...sick, delirious, exhausted...you are killing yourself. How sweet! Hehehehee! It is only a matter of time before you submit to me**." Malefor laughed, Rorek spitting on the ground.

"If you claim you are as strong as you are then I fail to see it. Why not just control me to further your plans?" Rorek asked, continuing his slow pace.

"**Foolish creature. Have you learned nothing from your dreams? Have you not learnt of my power when I awakened your inner darkness**?" Malefor asked, Rorek chuckling.

"Your power? What I have learnt is that you are weak. If you truly were as powerful as you say, you would stop me from speaking out against you. You thrive on the feeling of terror and rage you curse on others. I am too strong for you to simply control."

"**You speak lies! You are weak, and will need a stronger power to survive**." Malefor growled, tone hidden.

"And what stronger power do I need to survive? God was not with me when my love and unborn child were murdered. I have made it thus far without His help. You? You are a fiend, and are therefore less than God. If I need not fear God, then I need not fear you." Rorek stated, feeling the dragon within him boil in rage, but otherwise do nothing as it slowly disappeared.

"Looks like someone burned themselves out." Rorek muttered, a bit dryly as he paused to wipe his sweat.

"I hate demons...and drowning..." Rorek stated, shivering at the memory from his childhood as he continued his slow search for the little wyrms.

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**Yup. Malefor appears to be losing his grip doesn't he? He'll be back with a vengeance, don't worry. Poor Spyro, it appears that he's turning completely dark. Poor boy. Think Silas has a chance at helping him, or is Spyro right and he's just a killer? I hope you all enjoyed and thanks to everyone who supports this story! **


	19. Monster

**I'm back! Sorry for the long delay! I was mainly on vacation! And partly because I am working on new story called The Leper King and it has been taking away by time from Dishonored. Leper is my new baby, as sad as it is to say. Either way, onward! **

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"Come to me, little drakelings. Come, come, come! Damned lizards..." Rorek growled, studying the forested floor as he followed the small path through the ferns. It was no doubt made by one of the siblings.

Looking around briefly, Rorek couldn't help but shake the feeling that something was stalking him, watching him. Many times he had looked behind him, but had found nothing. Occasionally he had gotten these strange feelings from time to time, feelings of being watched. It usually happened when he was around restless spirits, wandering for all eternity.

"Damn spirits." Rorek muttered, green eyes bloodshot as he looked around into the foliage of the forest, swearing he saw shadows moving about. The odd feeling caused his hackles to rise. The brief glimpses did not seem human. They seemed more like...animals.

Rorek's breathing began to increase as coughs erupted passed his lips. This was not normal. It was always human spirits or demons the Necromancer could sense. The only time Rorek could even remember that he could see or hear the spirits of animals was at the Roman Coliseum. The Coliseum itself was destroyed years ago by a massive earthquake, but Rorek could see and hear the echos of the dead. He hated Rome with every fibre of his being, and was glad Rome burned for its inhumanities.

Deciding it was nothing and choosing to ignore it, Rorek continued to follow the trail, swearing he could hear several paws hitting the ground, a few sounding wet. He completely froze as a cold sweat broke out.

"No..." Rorek muttered, the visions of his dream suddenly reappearing in his mind. The hounds, the chase, the screams...Sophia.

Worry and terror suddenly struck the man's heart as he reached for his blade, suddenly realizing that he had lost in the fight with the cursed male.

The forest suddenly became deathly quiet, and Rorek could suddenly see his breath as he glanced all around, freezing as he heard a low growl erupt from behind him.

"Oh, Christ..." Rorek muttered, slowly turning behind him and almost falling backwards as he saw a large black wolf, eyes red and fangs bared. It was a demon.

Backing up slightly, Rorek suddenly stopped himself.

"What do you want?" Rorek suddenly asked, voice calm despite his vulnerability. The wolf refused to answer, licking its maw as a second hound appeared from the bushes, flesh falling off the hound as it appeared to be a rotting corpse, watching the man.

"What do you want?" Rorek asked again, a third suddenly appearing in her peripheral vision, bones covered with slight flesh.

"Answer me, damn you." Rorek growled, the rotting corpse producing a shrill scream, as if laughing while the skeleton shook its body in an excited manner.

"May-may God damn your eternal soul-liar-liar!" Rorek froze upon hearing the bastard King's voice, swiftly turning around to find a fourth hound completely covered in a black mist, a single red eye blaring as the faint outline of a skeleton and matted fur could be seen.

"Wh...What?" Rorek asked, stunned as the shadowed wolf twitched and convulsed, as if in pain.

"May God-God damn-damn your et-eternal soul, liar!" The wolf spoke, sounding exactly like Eamon, as if it were a parrot copying a human as it made odd screeches and twitches.

"What...what are you?" Rorek asked, completely stunned. He knew he shouldn't be speaking to this creature, but he had never even encountered anything like it.

"A-Abom-i-nation...Sinner!" The odd creature spoke, using the King's voice as it continued to twitch every time it spoke, head jerking as if in pain.

"Where did you come from?" Rorek asked, the wolf taking a long pause, as if processing the question.

"Hell." The wolf spoke, the tone of voice softer, more quiet. Rorek felt his terror rise as he realized the wolf was mimicking him.

"My...my daughter? What of her? Did you..." Rorek asked, unable to finish as he stared in terror at the beast, the wolf taking even longer to answer.

"No." The wolf replied, still mimicking the man before suddenly twitching violently as Rorek breathed a sigh of relief.

"I love you, Daddy-Daddy!" Rorek froze as the wolf began mimicking Sophia.

"I lo-ve you, Da-ddy!"

"Silence! Do not torture me with her voice!" Rorek cried, the wolf becoming quiet as the man calmed down.

"Who...who are you? Answer!"

"I-I am yo-your death!" The wolf answered, now mimicking the man once more before twitching again.

"**I am you**!" The wolf roared, Rorek screaming as he heard Malefor's voice, the man covering his ears and closing his eyes.

"_Stop it_! Stop! Stop! Stop! Just _STOP_!" Rorek cried, opening his eyes to find himself in the same clearing, the sun shining, breath no longer visible and wolves gone. Rorek visibly shook as he looked around, the feeling of watched being long gone.

"Damn you to Hell, dragon." Rorek muttered darkly, the bags under his eyes getting worse as sweat dripped from his brow, the balmy film returning.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Rorek took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves. Finding his bearings again, the man swiftly continued to find the path once more and follow the chick.

Following the path, Rorek swore that he could feel himself getting worse by the minute, his steps becoming less graceful and heavy. Eventually, the man's eyes had spotted movement amongst the foliage, Rorek trying to make himself as quiet as possible as he moved towards the rustling bushes.

Standing over the bush, Rorek stilled his breathing to focus and swiftly rammed his hand into the foliage, hearing a surprised squeak as he pulled a wyrm out by its tail.

Seraphina hissed and squirmed in the man's grasp, her small legs flailing as she managed to sink her teeth into the man's wrist, Rorek grunting in pain before roughly slamming the dragon against a tree.

"Little bitch!" Rorek growled, feeling a strange rage boil inside him as Seraphina cried in pain, Rorek now pinning her against the tree his other hand, now wrapping around the chick's neck.

Rorek licked the blood that ran down his wrist, green eyes looking at the black and red drakeling as she squirmed, eyes narrowing. Seraphina struggled from the man's grip, the chick unable to cry for help.

"What a beautiful creature you are for one made of darkness." Rorek murmured, touching the chick's scales with a gloved thumb.

"Such a pity you harbor such darkness. It is all your fault." Rorek's voice suddenly softened, barely a whisper as his eyes bore into the panicking Seraphina's.

"With your conception came by child's...with your birth came my child's death...you are the source of this nightmare. I wish to end it!" Rorek whispered harshly, covered in sweat as he briefly glanced over the wyrm.

"_Trust others with care. Death's face it does wear_." Rorek chuckled softly, his breath hitching as skin began to pale even worse.

"_Cherish the breath you take, for your neck the varg breaks_." Rorek chanted, large, black veins beginning to form from under his pale flesh, his vision beginning to darken as the black liquid began to run down his face.

_"It will grind your bones. And make them its own_." Seraphina began to gasp for breath as Rorek's nails ripped through his gloves, jagged and black as his eyes began to darken.

"_The beast will steal your soul...as it swallows you whole_." Rorek grinned, revealing black stained and jagged teeth.

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**Well, I hate writing creepy stuff, but I was too lazy to write Silas and Ember's problem and figured Rorek needed attention. Crazy bastard, isn't he? Well, I hope you enjoyed! If I do not update this in a while, it is most likey because I am working on Leper. And for some reason I feel like Rorek will be hated. Oh, well. Please review and thank you all for your support! :)**


	20. Courageous Rebellion

**Yay for Chapter 20! Hello once more! Here is another chapter. I know it is soon, but I feel pressured to pump out more because of college approaching. I hope you all enjoy!**

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"Hey!"

Rorek's head snapped to the side, his black eyes narrowing upon seeing a man standing a few feet away, arrow drawn. A soft noise that sounded almost like a hiss escaped Rorek's mouth, slack jawed as the dark liquid slowly seeped from his corners. The substance flowed lazily down his chin before slowly running off onto his attire.

"Why do you not pick on someone your own size? Let the dragon go." The man ordered, voice firm as his blue eyes watched intently for any sign of movement.

"Relinquere...antequam mors veniat." Rorek spoke, Seraphina wheezing as she struggled to breath, her struggles becoming less and less.

"I said let the dragon go!" The man shouted, releasing the string as the arrow whizzed through the air and embedded itself into the man's wrist, Rorek grunting in pain as he pulled away, dropping the wyrm as Seraphina fell to the ground.

"_Bastard_!" Rorek hissed, clutching his wounded wrist as blood seeped down from the wound, the arrow having pierced completely through his wrist. Seraphina landed on the ground with a thud, the young drakeling coughing and wheezing as her stubby limbs struggled to get her on her paws and flee.

"You...I know you. You are the man that was to be crucified. You are the one Silas freed." The man spoke, eyes sharp in realization as the chick ran towards him and hid behind the man in a large patch of ferns, the ferns shaking slightly from the drakeling's terror.

"So you understand." Rorek spoke softly, black eyes staring at the man as his hand tightly gripped the body of the arrow so hard that his arm was shaking, "Nigromantii."

"Silas was a fool to free you. Good hearted, but a fool." The man reasoned, his fingers brushing against the feathers of an arrow in his quiver, "The others were superstitious-they feared you-and still do. They fear your magic. But I do not fear you, for you are as much a man as I am. You are sick, in body and mind. That is where we differ."

"I am more ill than you can ever imagine. My sickness is worse than that of a leper, and Jesus cannot save me, nor can God. The only thing that can save me from this illness, from myself is me." Rorek spoke, voice soft and low, a new rush of blood running from his wrist as the man slowly began to push arrow from his flesh.

"All of us have darkness within us no matter how hard we pretend not to. Some darkness is easily subdued and controlled, while others are more ambitious, hateful, prideful, lasting. If you give your darkness even a taste of freedom, it will want more. It will always want more, and will not stop tugging at the chains that hold it until it breaks free." Rorek paused, ignoring the pain as he felt the wood slide through his flesh and scrape against his bone, blood being forced out the inner wrist.

"I am fighting an uphill battle. I gave my darkness a taste of freedom long ago, and now it has returned. I tried. I truly did. I ran from myself, hid from myself, hoping to never become that man again, never wanting to even be that man. But now, the more I fight, the more I find myself becoming that man that I swore I would never be. I cannot stop it, the darkness it too strong. The voices are so loud..." Rorek paused once more to breathe before ripping the arrow out of his wrist, grunting in pain as blood ran down his gloved hands and black nails.

"I have been told that I have a gift, or a curse. Ever since I was a boy, I could see...hear things, even feel. The priests said I was Devil touched or God touched-depending upon how they viewed it, my...condition."

"And what do you believe?" The man asked, abandoning his bow to finger the hilt of his sword in the man's state. He appeared...possessed, almost. Or gravely diseased. That was a better choice.

"What do I believe? I believe that I am punished by God. I see the creatures of the damned, I hear them, feel them, as I always have been able to. I hear voices that are not mine...and they scream inside my head-their screams are so loud and I cannot make them stop! There is never silence, no. Silence is nonexistent, dead. The living...they do not speak. They stare, simple minded and content with their lives as if they were made of straw. Never going anywhere, never speaking, never thinking one original thought in their strawed heads. Then comes the fire, and they all burn. They all..._scream_. The dead _scream_, while the living are _silent_, and it never ends! It never ends! The noise, the silence, existing peacefully yet in a constant battle to overthrow the other-a war that will never end! A war that will never end in my head!" Rorek whimpered, the man feeling pity for the Necromancer upon seeing his wretched and tortuous state of mind and body.

Rorek's breath began to shake as liquid began to pour down his face, but it was different than the thick and heavy black substance that had covered his mouth and eyes. It was tears.

"You are a very ill man, of that I have no doubt. I pity you." The man admitted, Rorek's eyes flickering to the man, his black eyes beginning to dull in color as a laugh escaped.

"Worse than a leper." Rorek replied, wiping his eyes to feel the black substance pull off in large chunks, like it was dried mud. The man noticed that his nailed had paled to their normal color and had returned to their usual length, his skin color returning.

"Now you have seen the gravity of my illness." Rorek murmured looking at the man. For the first time, the Necromancer was able to get a good look at the man. He was tall and muscular with the build of a soldier and the armor and weaponry of a knight. He looked young, perhaps around a few years younger than Rorek himself. The young man's blue eyes were sharp, alert, and his bleach blonde hair hurt Rorek's jaded eyes when looked upon.

"Regardless of your intentions towards me, I thank you for...stopping me. You saved the wyrm's life while I lacked the control to stop myself. On behalf of Seraphina and myself, I thank you." Rorek thanked, the man nodding before looking back as the small black and red dragon peaking out from the ferns.

"You are welcome. I was not about to let you kill a creature so rare and fascinating." The man spoke, smiling slightly before waving at Seraphina, the small dragon shaking slightly.

"Well, what is it that you intend to do with me?" Rorek asked suddenly, the man snapping his head towards the smaller man, a look of confusion on his face.

"What?" The man asked, startled as Rorek looked at him blankly. It appeared that he was much better.

"I assume that you want the rather large bounty on my head, yes? If so, I would think that you would cut off my head with your sword, or bind me and I would follow you blindly to my death." Rorek suggested, the man looking at him in disbelief.

"Really?"

"No." Rorek snapped slightly, dryness in his voice before looking at the man once more.

"What is your name? Tell me, and I shall tell you mine lest you already know it." Rorek asked.

"Ferox Seditio. You?" The man spoke, Rorek stopping himself from sneering at the man. Who did this boy think he was? A Crusader? The Holy Wars were long gone.

"My name is Rorek. Tell me...Ferox, how do you know Silas?" Rorek asked, watching slightly as Seraphina emerged from her hiding spot, skittish and nervous as she moved between the knight's legs and rubbed, almost like a cat.

"He and I were Pages and Squires together. Is Silas still alive? I have not seen him since...well...for years. Last I heard he got exiled defending the Duchess and aiding a Necromancer's escape." Ferox asked, Rorek raising an eyebrow at that.

"If you have not seen the spectacle, then how do you know of me?" Rorek asked, suddenly on edge and nervous, to which the man laughed. Seraphina pawed at Ferox, wanting attention.

"Word travels fast. Are you and Silas...friends? You do not appear to be the kind whom he would befriend." Ferox asked again, bending down to pet Seraphina before picking her up.

"It is a love hate relationship. Silas often lists off the many reasons why I shall go to Hell, and in return I insult his intelligence and mock his cowardice." Rorek responded, Ferox now holding Seraphina as if she were a human baby, cooing.

"You sound like a great friend." Ferox spoke, looking towards the man, a note of sarcasm in his voice.

"Why would I not be?" Rorek asked dryly, both men heavily dripping with sarcasm, as if in a contest.

"This chick, where did you find her? Is she yours?" Ferox asked, eyeing the dragon with curiosity that matched a child's.

"Hardly. There are three others." Rorek answered, the man's head quickly shooting up.

"Three? Here?" Ferox asked, voice quickening with excitement as his eyes began to shine.

"Yes. Two males and one female."

"And this is the second female? Where are they? Can you take me to them? This is exciting!" The knight cried, Rorek becoming annoyed slightly by the man's childish joy. Even Silas never got this excited about a mythical creature. Well...a not so mythical creature anymore. Silas never really got excited unless he was knocking some idiot off his horse. For everything else, the young knight worried.

"No, that is...not a good idea. They are scattered, separated. I have been trying to locate the chicks. The one we are looking for is a white male with black markings. If we find the chicks, the sooner I can find the others. Or attempt to." Rorek muttered, falling silent.

"Is Silas with the other dragons?" The knight asked, curious, but Rorek couldn't help but detect a hint of jealousy underneath. He wondered why. They were just dragons.

"Last I saw him, yes, he was." Rorek answered, the man releasing a simple "Oh." in response, falling silent before breathing to speak once more.

"Is he at least staying out of trouble?" Ferox asked, the Necromancer falling silent as he looked briefly towards the side before turning his head back at the man.

"Maybe..." Rorek suddenly slurred, Ferox frowning.

"So you have no intentions of killing me, or having me face some form of horrible death that will have me screaming to High Heaven?" Rorek asked, raising a brow.

"Nope." The man swiftly answered, shaking his head.

"Huh? Well, that is a first." Rorek commented, looking over his new wound to feel the blood already beginning to clot. He would need to clean it soon.

"What is it that you are doing out here?"

"Scouting for the Duke and his army." The man responded, Rorek's posture suddenly changing, his ears perking up.

"The Duke? Can you take me to him? I have been meaning to find him, but could not for the longest time." Rorek asked, eyes shining suddenly, as if hopefull.

"But what of the chick?"

"The wyrms are my first priority, however, with my wounds I find it difficult to give chase. I can track him, but I am too injured to catch him. If you were to help me capture the last chick we could bring them back to the Duke and allow you to get a closer view of them."

"But...what of the parents? Will they not look for the chicks?" Ferox asked, concerned yet intrigued.

"They may, but the chicks will be in more danger alone in the woods than within the army camp. Of that I have no doubt." Rorek spoke, the man pausing in thought.

"Very well. You have a deal. But so long as these chicks are not harmed and returned to their parents. And if you have another episode like that again I will not hesitate to plunge my blade into your heart." Ferox spoke firmly, feeling Seraphina nuzzle and lick him like a puppy, purring.

"Hmm. Likewise." Rorek responded, not seeming to care as he tried to look for any signs of Arias, judging the foliage patterns before slowly moving through the brush.

Ferox waited a few seconds before following, alert and on edge for anything that roamed the forest. But nothing sent more chills down his spine than the man in front of him. Seraphina eagerly swiveled her head every which way from the man's arms, enjoying the heightened view and new found safety.

The knight watched Rorek moved slowly, his movements a bit stiff and his breathing irregular as sweat began to cover him once more. Rorek would occasionally pause to break a small tree branch or carve an odd symbol into the bark of a tree with the arrow head, the whole thing covered in dried blood.

"Are you alright?" Ferox asked, watching the man closely as Rorek simply nodded, the trio moving in silence for several minutes. Ferox could see a small trail through the brush and ferns, small clawed paws leaving imprints in the dirt.

"Did they ever stop?" Rorek halted in his stride, his neck turning to look at the man behind him.

"Does what stop?" Rorek asked, eyes narrowing slightly, as if judging the knight.

"The voices. Did they stop?" Ferox asked, Rorek's eyes averting to the ground before continuing to walk once more.

"The dead never rest even when laying, and the living never speak even while their lungs draw breath. No. They never stop. They never do." Rorek muttered softly, not caring if the other man heard him or not.

"At times...I find myself wondering: do I truly have this gift...this curse? Do I really hear the dead, see them, even feel them? Or is all I have just a figment of a mental illness? Am I really insane, even without the dragon? Or is the dragon causing my insanity? But that does not explain the voices which I have always heard, the ones that I have always seen, the deaths that I have always felt. Why are the dead so loud, and the living so quiet?"

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**Well, there you have it. I think the next chapter will be of Silas (which I have been procrastinating on doing, honestly). I feel bad for Rorek, in a sense. Is he insane, or is he not? I have also been thinking a lot about Blood and Fire, and have developed it more into a story set before The Temple Raid (by 14 years). It does have some vampires and werewolves, but I highly doubt there will be a whole cluster of them(since they are underground, hiding from the light of the sun). The story sounded so horrible that I changed it, but still kept some of the original components(such as humans dying out-either turning into vampires or werewolves-which serve as their hounds). However, in order to avoid extinction from the sun, the vampires and their wolves went underground, allowing the earth to evolve without them, the world transforming into the dragon realms as dragons became the dominant race. The main characters(so far) are actually a family/troop of apes that are readying to answer Malefor's call to war(and Gaul's raid on the Temple). However, a mining accident causing an explosion when the apes were mining for dragons crystals, and the apes(in terror of a dragon attack) go to investigate, but find something else instead. I know it sounds stupid, and the first chapter shows the breeds in modern times(only to have the second chapter skip thousands of years ahead). I don't know, I've never seen people do something like this with Spyro, so I figured I would give it a shot. If you guys want, feel free to check it out cause I would honestly like to know how much it sucks. As for Dishonored, thank you for all your support and please feel free to review on Rorek's sanity/insanity dilemma! Oh, and what Rorek says in Latin is "Leave...before death comes."**


	21. Brothers in Arms

**Ugggh! Huge chapter! I APOLOGIZE for the lack of story line! I have it all planed out, it's just that the problem is getting there-and my writing style 'cause I like to take my time. And the last two chapters have really been going nowhere because I was procrastinating on writing this chapter cause of the flying. Either way, I hope this goes somewhere. Enjoy!**

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The sound of wings on the wind echoed throughout the forest as a shadow cascaded onto the ground, a dragoness soaring just above the treetops.

Ember took a deep breath, filling her lungs before exhaling. It was amazing! Even though she was only above the treetops and her wings were stiff from lack of exercise, it felt as if she was relieving the very first time she flew. Air crisp and sharp, blowing onto her body as the sound of the element rushing passed the very ends of her wing membranes roared. It was exhilarating!

Yet despite having the rising need to fly up into the cool clouds, Ember did not. The dragoness was perfectly happy with touching the tips of the pines with her talons. She was not entirely sure if she could even gain anymore altitude with the knight on her back. It made her movements somewhat awkward, and her wings worked harder to keep both up in the air.

"Are you alright, Silas?" Ember asked, glancing back briefly as she looked for Spyro, yet to her dismay, she had found no trace of the purple male.

"Yes...I am." Silas answered slowly, holding onto her for dear life. He did not have a problem with falling no, it was just the fact that they were above the treeline. It was so odd, and more than once the knight suddenly felt sick. Needless to say, the young man preferred to be grounded.

"I don't see him. I hope he isn't hurting anyone!" Ember voiced her dismay, her wings completely outstretched as she caught a sudden gust of wind and glided.

"He could not have gotten too far, but then again...he did have a head start. Damn." Silas spoke, getting used to riding her. Riding a dragon was not that different from riding a horse. Who knew?

"Ember, to the right. Look." Silas ordered, his eyes catching smoke in the distance, his body leaning to the side slightly as his useless arm hung limp. Ember gasped as the sudden shift in weight caused her to tilt to the right, the pair nearly colliding with a tree as Ember grunted, using all the strength in her wings to pull them up and stabilize them.

"Damn. That was close." Silas mumbled, shaken as his right arm wrapped around her chest, the man in no mood to fall.

"Don't do that again! You're too heavy to move any which way you like!" Ember growled, annoyance in her tone, a snort escaping her.

"My apologies. But did you see the smoke?"

"I see it. What is it?" Ember asked, her body tilting to the right to turn as Silas did the same.

Silas grumbled, pushing the hair from his eyes as he squinted.

"I do not know. It does not look like dragon fire. I think we should land. It will be difficult to be spotted from the ground, and is safer." Silas commented, Ember finding a tight clearing to drop down in, wings outstretched to soften the landing as her talons hit the ground, body stumbling before coming to a sudden halt that almost sent the human flying forward.

Wordlessly, Silas dismounted, his footing unsteady from being air bound so long. Ember's chest puffed out in pride at what she had accomplished in her flight and landing.

"So now we find where the smoke was coming from!" Ember chirped, excited as the man shook his head.

"No, you will remain here where I know it is safe. I will-excuse me!" Silas cried, suddenly rushing to nearest bush and vomiting, Ember flinching at the harsh noises.

"Are you okay?" Ember asked, concerned as the man simply waved her off, wiping the vomit away from his chin as he caught his breath.

"I feel better." Silas replied, approaching her with a slight smile, as if vomiting made all his problems go away.

"Stay here, Ember. I will come back for you, you have my word."

"But-"

"No buts. You are like a child sometimes." Silas replied, fighting to not roll his eyes as he looked into the sky and saw the smoke.

Silas continued to walk into the direction of the smoke, soon beginning to smell the smoke, but judging by the scent it was a controlled flame. He could swear he could hear voices as well. Terror began to mount in the young knight. What if this was the King's men? He would be executed on sight. Yet why would the King have his men so far away from Regensburg? Hope swelled in the knight's chest as a camp came into view, and judging by the banters it was the Grand Duke's camp. Yes!

Silas' eyes shone as his stride increased with eager excitement, stumbling slightly. Silas' breathing and heartbeat increased as his chest puffed out in pride. He had found them, he had found the Duke! The man that had spared his life, the man whom had known him since birth, the man whom sired a beautiful daughter, the man who had witnessed Silas' feeble attempts to save that beautiful daughter. This man is the one he had sought, and by God he had done it!

A brief shadow of doubt made itself known in the darkest corners of Silas' mind, but it was one that he quickly pushed out. He was far too confident that the Duke would wish any ill harm to him. It would not break his confidence of one walking against many.

Walking into the camp, Silas noted that he had seen several men that he knew, but regardless if they saw him or not, they seemed to pay him no heed. Others, however, did. They stared or glanced at him and began speaking. But it bothered the young man not. He needed to see the man that spared his life.

"You, boy." Silas called, a squire coming to a stop at that, nearly spilling a bucket of water.

"Y-Yes, sir knight?" The boy asked, wide eyed, as if fearful.

"Take me to the Grand Duke."

"B-"

"Take me." Silas ordered, voice firm if a bit harsh, and the boy flinched at that.

"Y-Yes, sir! F-Follow me!" The boy stuttered, practically running in the direction as Silas followed.

"You seem rather tense." Silas observed, the boy nodding.

"Yes. There is so much going on we squires are not sure what to do." The boy spoke, Silas seeing knights preparing their war horses, fitting their armor with the aid of a squire or praying with a priestess. The camp was far from dead. They even had kennels for their hunting hounds.

"I can see that. How goes the war?"

"A lot of us are fleeing the towns. The King is taxing us finances that we do not have, and then he sacks the town, trying to route up any rebellions and publicly executing them." The squire answered, Silas remaining silent upon hearing a gravity of the state as the boy suddenly stopped.

"Here is his tent, sir knight. I must be off now lest I get yelled at for not doing my duties."

"I thank you." Silas spoke, watching the boy scurry off as Silas breathed deeply before pushing the air out, calming himself.

Walking into the tent, Silas saw a single man crouched over a map, brown hair and beard greying as his fingers glided across the paper, working out scenarios within his head. Silas stayed quiet, observing the man briefly before stepping forward.

"What is it?" The Duke, William, asked. The man was too bothered with his planning to even look up.

"My Liege." Silas spoke, the man at the desk completely freezing, his breath beginning to hitch.

"I know that voice..." William replied, slowly looking up to see the very man whom he had exiled standing before him, "Silas, it is you!"

"I have returned." Silas replied, grinning as William laughed, walking around the desk to clasp his hand firm on the young man's shoulder.

"By God! You actually made it, you are alive, my boy!" William smiled, obviously happy, "Your father would be so proud of you if he knew you were here! Did you see him on your way here?"

Silas' smile soon disappeared at that, brow creasing in concern and confusion.

"Father is here?"

"Yes. As is your cousin. They fled when Regensburg became too hostile for anyone even suspected of joining the rebellion. From what I have heard, Eamon has been rounding up families in the middle of the night and executing them at sundown, torturing them 'till their execution." William explained, his arms dropping to his sides in despair. Silas remained quiet, digesting the news.

"What has befallen us?" Silas asked softly, William sighing deeply.

"War is the consequence for humanities' failures." William replied simply, Silas looking off to the side before returning to William.

"Well whatever the case, I am at your disposal, my lord." Silas spoke, William laughing gently.

"I always liked your spirit. My daughter could never ask for better...but at any rate, go and rest, grab some stew. You look like you need it." William spoke, Silas looking upon the man with slight shock.

"You have no need of me? I can fight, m' lord!" Silas cried in dismay, William shaking his head.

"Adler...look at yourself. You are strong, but you look like you got into a fist fight with a bear." William spoke, motioning to his bent armor and dented shield.

"I feel like it." Silas muttered, rubbing a cut he found on his chin. He had no idea he even had a cut on his chin, or for that matter stubble. Last he checked he was clean shaven. How long was he out in the forest?

"How goes the war?" Silas asked suddenly, still feeling his face for stubble as the Duke sighed.

"Not well. We have won a few battles, but my brother simply has more resources to work with." William replied, Silas' arms falling to his side, an idea forming in his head.

"My liege, did you hear of any sky-plagues recently?" Silas asked, William looking at the young man strangely.

"Dragons? Just a rumor of one being slain by some French mercenary. Why? You are not drunk, are you?" William asked, Silas shaking his head.

"No! I do not get drunk; I pass out." Silas defended himself, William chuckling.

"Says the knight that stripped and ran down the halls." William grinned, Silas' face flushing at that, an awkward silence falling over the pair.

"Oh...You knew?" Silas asked, horrified and embarrassed as the man simply nodded.

"But, in any case, what is with this sudden talk of dragons?" William asked, saving the young man from his own embarrassment, Silas jumping slightly.

"Oh, umm, well, m'lord, I have something...someone that I would like to show to you." Silas replied, voice wavering, as if suddenly nervous-though not from the previous topic.

"A...dragon?" William asked, tone and facial expression greatly showing disbelief as the young man began to panic slightly.

"Please, my Duke! Never have I lied to you! I have remained honest and true to both you and your daughter, and shall not start lying to you now! I know I did many foolish things in the past, but tricking you has never been one of them and it will never be! Please, my lord, all I ask is for your trust." Silas pleaded, William pausing, considering his options. It was not like Silas was a liar, despite the incident with Anaya, he had never spoke a lie to his face. And the Silas he had known since the younger was a babe...he may have been a fool at times, but when a situation became grim you could always trust him. The Duke sighed deeply, closing his eyes before opening them once more.

"Very well...take me to this dragon." William spoke, Silas falling to his knees and bowing deeply.

"Oh, thank you, my Duke! Thank you!" Silas replied, swiftly getting up.

"Come! She is not very far away! Just in the woods!" Silas cried, excitement in his voice and a slight skip in his step as William followed.

"How is it that you...met this dragon?" William asked, his decorative armor shining in the sunlight as the pair walked close together, voices soft as they moved across the camp.

"Do you remember that mercenary, the one the rumors are about? I was asked by a local lord to go kill this beast that has been hunting his flock. I met the man...what was his name? Mordred? Yes, that was it. Well, I met him, and convinced him to allow me to join on his expedition since we were both in service under the same man. I did not believe in dragons until then. Scales as black as night while others were as red as the blood she spilt. Out of all of Mordred's men, only he and I survived. It was only luck that I had managed to kill her, but at the cost of the Duchess' steed. I was so angry I had killed what had been hers that I walked off into the forest, leaving Mordred with the spoils." Silas spoke softly, William's eyes widening as Silas shown him his dented shield, the twin eagles scared with what looked like massive teeth marks. There were even indents where the fangs embedded themselves.

"And what of your second?" The Duke asked, Silas chuckling.

"She is...friendlier. I was seeking shelter, and came upon a cave. She was inside." Silas responded.

"I take it you and she are friends. Does she have a name?" William asked, his curiosity growing.

"Ember. Her name is Ember." Silas answered after a second's pause, shaking his head, "My lord, I know this sounds insane, but what I speak is the truth."

"Do not fret. I believe you. You were never one to believe in the mystic." William responded, smiling slightly, "And I believe you have shown me enough proof."

"Yes, I did, did I not? These indents are different than that of a bear." Silas replied a bit shyly, clearing his throat as the pair went passed the camp and into the forest, both falling silent.

"Ember? Ember, are you here?" Silas called, the pair pausing before a slight rustle was heard, a pink dragon emerging from the dense forest.

"Silas! There you are! I-" Ember froze as she noticed the other human with him, eyes showing confusion and slight fear.

"What a magnificent creature." William spoke in awe, looking up at the beast as Ember blinked once, but then puffed her chest out in pride and stretched her wings, enjoying the attention.

"Oh, thank you! Your armor looks so shiny and pretty!" Ember complemented back, Silas fighting the urge to face palm himself at the dragon's childish statement. But then again, it was Ember...

"Thank you, kind dragon." William thanked simply, smiling, somewhat at a lack for words and in slightly shock that a mythical creature was standing before...and speaking for that matter. And had manners.

"My Duke, this is Ember. Ember, this is the Grand Duke of Bavaria, William Farring!" Silas introduced his ruler with pride, both smiling.

"It is a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Ember. Silvanus has spoken of you with much enthusiasm." William greeted warmly, the old Duke seeming not at all phased, but rather fascinated and awed.

"Hello, Grand Duke, sir!" Ember chirped happily before her eyes widened in sudden fear, wings and tail twitching in nervousness.

"Oh, no! I messed up, didn't I? I was supposed to bow, wasn't I, Silas? Silas? Was I supposed to bow?" Ember asked, her blue eyes flicking to the human in question as her scales heated up.

"There is no need to bow to me, friend. Though I may carry the title of Grand Duke, I am still but a man." William replied, smiling underneath his beard.

"I shall not lie, I feel honored to be in the very presence of such a special creature. I thank you for showing me your friend, Silvanus." William spoke, Silas smiling at that.

"You are most welcome, m'lord. It was my honor." Silas stated, Ember giving the Duke an odd look. Why did he keep calling Silas Silvanus?

"I find her most fascinating. Pray tell, friend, how would you wish me to address one such as yourself? I have read some books on dragons and their culture, but know little and I do not wish to take offense." William asked, Ember's eyes widening at the human's statement.

"You...You may call me Ember...umm..." Ember paused, unsure how to address the man. She knew very little of human society, and did not wish to offend the man. She guessed he had to be of high rank judging by the way Silas spoke around him.

"Ah, William, please."

"Okay. William..." Ember replied, testing the name. It sounded so odd. Why did humans have such odd names?

"Did you...mention books? Books on dragons and their...our culture?" Ember asked, her curiosity and excitement growing as the man nodded perhaps a bit too enthusiastically.

"Now you did it..." Silas muttered softly, Ember's hearing picking up the knight's comment with confusion.

"Yes! I love to read, and have come across several books on dragons regarding their history and biology-though it is through the eyes of men. I do not know how true it is, but I find it interesting nonetheless."

"Truly? Can...Can you perhaps...show me these books? I would love to see them." Ember asked, eyes shining as the Duke frowned.

"As much as I would love to, my friend, I am fearful to say that they are not in my possession." William replied, Ember slumping at the human's response.

"Oh...I see..." Ember replied, crestfallen.

"Ember does not know much of dragon history, my liege. She fears that most of it is in ruin." Silas replied, losing his balance slightly before catching himself.

"I see. That is most unfortunate. And I see that you finally hit something harder than your own head, hmmm?" William asked, observing the younger man as Silas took a second to respond.

"Perhaps." Silas stated simply, William then turning his attention to the dragoness.

"The books, I know are in the library within the castle's walls lest my brother decided to burn them for some ungodly reason. If we ever claim Regensburg, I will be more than happy to show you those books, Ember." William spoke, Ember seeming to smile slightly at that.

"Thank you. That's very kind of you."

"I would love to stay and speak with you more, but I must return to my duties. My generals are probably running around like headless chickens looking for me." William replied, pinching the bridge of his nose as a sigh escaped him.

"I apologize to you, Ember, but I cannot allow you with my men. I do not trust them enough for a physical appearance of a mythical creature." William apologized, Ember's eye crests rising in shock.

"Do not trust your men? You trust me over your own people?" Ember asked, the old Duke nodding.

"Silas trusts you, and if he does then so do I." William spoke, nodding once more in confirmation as Silas smiled.

"I am honored by your trust, m'lord. I shall return later in the eve to keep you company, Ember. I promise." Silas spoke, Ember snorting slightly in response.

"You better, Mr. Knight! I'll be so bored until you come back." Ember whined, Silas waving her in farewell as he and William began to walk towards the military camp.

"You are a strange man, Silas. Either by the grace of God or by dumb luck...you make me wonder." William commented, laughing slightly.

"How I have survived thus far? I do not know." Silas spoke, suddenly feeling every muscle in his body cry for rest, movements stiff and limbs heavy.

"How you carry on. You have overcome emotional and mental obstacles that would destroy a man, but you...it has made you stronger."

"And you as well, if I may be so bold, my Duke. What man in his right mind would rebel against a King whose army outmans his foe's by three fold? Those odds are suicide."

"Yet you would willingly go to your death, as would I?" William asked, Silas nodding.

"Without hesitation." Silas replied, looking into the sky. Where was Spyro? He could not have just vanished. God forbid he was slaughtering some poor village...

"You are either very foolish, or very brave. I am still trying to decide which you fall upon, for only the foolish or the brave would dare halt an execution." William spoke, Silas feeling his chest clench.

"I am guessing a fool." Silas spoke, William chuckling at the young man's response.

"Not quite. Do you remember your oath?" William asked, Silas nodding.

"What was it?" The Duke asked, pausing in his steps as the younger man did the same, his lips moving silently before his voice came alive, soft, yet with rising power.

"Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright that God may love thee. Speak the truth always, even if it leads to your death. Safeguard the helpless and do no wrong." Silas recited, William smiling.

"Be it foolish or brave is your question, but a knight? There is no question." William spoke, voice firm as the pair slowly continued their walk into the camp, the fuffle and scuffle ever present.

"You could never do any wrong in her eyes. She was always so proud of you." William continued, clearing his throat suddenly as he looked away, as if hiding in shame only to look back at Silas and smile.

"I must take my leave of you, friend. God keep you safe."

"Thank you. And He you, my lord." Silas spoke, a bit taken aback by his statement. Still, despite the physical exhaustion of his body, Silas could not help but grin, feeling his chest fill up with pride. She could do no wrong in his.

"No, no...not now." Silas muttered to himself, feeling his body just want to collapse. He could not. He had unfinished business to attend to. He could not rest yet.

"My arm can wait, my body can wait, rest can wait...Father, Berend? I must find them first...then I can rest...ohhh, sleep sounds fanciful...now. I miss not having a bed." Silas groaned, forcing himself to wander stiffly through the camp in search of his kin.

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**Tada? I tried. I'm terribly tired right now, but for some reason I had a sudden realization: whenever I write something with Silas, usually something GOOD happens, and when I write something with Rorek, something MAJORLY fucked up happens. So, since I'm literally so tired that I'm actually hyper, I decided to make another poll. This poll is simple. Silas vs Rorek. Your preferences for choosing which can be anything you choose: Personality, Character Development, Insanity, whatever you can think of-I don't care. They-in a sense-are opposites, and frienemies. Before I go on, I would like to thank everyone who is supporting this story! Let the Silas vs Rorek poll begin!**


	22. Reign of Fire

**Okay, so here is the next chapter after a long wait due to my laziness with summer. Enjoy!**

* * *

Wandering around the camp, Silas searched for his small family, taking in the sights and sounds of his brethren as the familiar scent of heated metal and manure hit his nose. Yep. It even smelled like home.

Looking around, however, the young man could not find his father or cousin. The knight's steps faltered as he looked around, double checking before turning around and retracing his steps through the camp. In his exhausted state, Silas was unsure if he had passed them and had not noticed them. Silas certainly did look lost and confused in his current state and he began to walk passed makeshift stables, ears perking up upon hearing a voice.

"No, boy, you are doing it wrong. You do not ram the pick right into the horse's hoof, you scrape the dirt out of it so it does not cause them any discomfort." Silas suddenly became awake as he heard the familiar voice, his body swiftly turning to look for the owner of the voice. He could hear the high pitched voice of a boy, though he could not understand what was being said.

While taking the young man longer than normal to spy the familiar pair, Silas realized they were a few feet in front of him, a man and a boy. It may have been them, or may not, but the knight suddenly felt too excited to drop from exhaustion.

Walking towards the pair, Silas felt a lightness in his chest, his heavy boots clanging in the dirt as he stopped behind them. He may not have been able to see the face of the man, but he could see the boy's. It was Berend. And the boy had seen his older cousin, Berend's eyes wide in shock, hands completely frozen in mid work.

"What is wrong, boy? You look like you have seen a ghost." The man kneeling in front of him asked, horse hoof in hand as he worked on scraping out the dirt.

"S...Silas." The man froze as he heard the name escape from his nephew's mouth, the old man slowly turning around to be greeted by a familiar face-if a bit gruff.

"Silas?" Carl asked in disbelief, the boy next to him suddenly getting to his feet and running towards his cousin.

"Silas!" Berend cried happily, Silas falling to his knees as the boy jumped on him in a desperate hug, Silas trying his best to return the affection with only one arm, managing to lift the boy off the ground.

"I...my son...my boy-by, God you came back! You are alive!" Carl cheered, ecstatic as Silas smiled and nodded, struggling to get to his feet only to have the older man help him up.

"By God I...I thought you were dead. I thought...with the war...why did you come back? You should have left when you had the chance."

"This is my home, Father. I could not stand by-or worse-ignore my country's perils as she bleeds to death. I have played my part to start this madness, and by God, I will see to it that this nightmare is over in the end. Be it my death or the King's, I have no intention of fleeing like a coward." Silas spoke, Berend still holding onto him like a leech. Carl laughed sullenly, shaking his head.

"I always knew my teachings would be the death of you." The man sighed, Silas shaking his head.

"Be that may, I am fighting for what is right."

"And what do you believe is right?" Carl asked, his son piercing his lips together, as if in thought.

"Fighting for those whom I have failed in the past, for their memory, their honor, and their injustices. I believe that is right." Silas answered, Carl nodding before looking at the boy still wrapped around Silas' neck.

"Are you going to stay like that the whole time your cousin is here?" Carl asked, Berend nodding.

"Yes."

"Joy." Silas muttered.

"I missed you, Silas." Berend spoke, Silas chuckling softly.

"I missed you too, Berend. Can you get off me now?" Silas asked, Berend letting go as he landed on the floor with a thud.

"Did you hurt your shoulder again?" Carl asked, noticing the lack of use in his shield arm and the stiff posture.

"I fear I did." Silas responded simply, Carl motioning him to move towards him.

"How?" Berend asked, his curiosity growing as Carl pushed on the younger man's arm before roughly pushing it up and in, a loud pop being heard that caused the boy to flinch.

"Ow. Thank you, Father." Silas spoke, moving his arm as the pain and pressure quickly faded.

"You are welcome. All those jousting tournaments with you getting knocked off your horse taught me something." Carl grinned, Silas frowning at his hurt pride.

"You are a cruel man to your son, reopening embarrassing wounds..."

"Silas! How did you hurt your arm again? Where were you all the time you were gone? What were you doing that whole time? How did-"

"Berend, shush! Your cousin looks like he just came out of a battle with a bear and you give the poor boy no time to rest." Silas paled slightly, looking at his shield in nervousness before trying to shelter the talon and bite marks. At least they all thought it was a bear...

"Sorry, Uncle." Berend responded, crestfallen as Carl suddenly clapped his hands together.

"Well, Son, you look starved. How about we get some food in your belly?" Carl asked, Silas looking at the man as if he just said the most exciting thing in the world.

"Mmmmm...food..." Silas replied almost mindlessly. He couldn't remember the last time he properly ate, and quite frankly he didn't care if all he ate was a potato. His stomach seemed to rumble at the thought of food, making its needs known as a massive amount of pain hit his stomach. He wanted food!

"Lead on, Father." Silas spoke, more than happy to finally have something to eat, Berend eagerly following in their footsteps.

* * *

Ember sighed, bored with herself as she watched the sun move in its cycles. it had been several hours since her friend had left, and without him she was bored terribly. The dragoness had even slept peacefully for the first time in months, and even though she could not remember her dream, she knew it brought her peace.

Ember's hearing began to pick up as she heard the wind whisper, call her name, beckon her into the skies. It was the instinct to fly that was calling to her.

Hesitantly, Ember looked back in the direction of the human camp, looking for any sign of her knight, yet found none. She would feel guilty if he came back only to find her gone and send Silas in a panic. Still, what could one short trip hurt?

"Well...I will make it quick!" Ember assured herself, turning around to find a good spot to take flight among the trees. Upon finding one, the dragoness spread out her wings, the membrane shining proudly in the light the trees allowed through and in one swift motion, jumped into the air and gave one mighty flap of her wings. The leaves and pines rumbled under the force of her might as Ember broke through the treetops, her wings outstretched in the sun before the pink dragon gave another powerful stroke of her wings, climbing higher into the sky. The wind seemed to dance with her body, licking the very edges of her membranes as the wind roared.

Ember laughed, her body moving playfully as she danced among the low lying clouds, her talons scraping them, as if to touch them. The pain of her wounds didn't matter. The loss and death of her world didn't matter. All that mattered was the sky, the wind, the clouds, and the sun. She was free, and nothing could harm her in her fantasy world.

Twirling through the clouds and rays of sun, admiring how her own scales gleamed in the sunlight despite her wounds, admiring how the green scarf with golden embroidery that was meant for another woman shone and sparkled on her wrist...everything was beautiful when one was in the clouds, dancing with the wind.

However, upon seeing the color of a familiar dragon, her fantasy world shattered, and the dancing stopped as the dragoness lost her rhythm and almost plummeted out of the sky. Catching herself, Ember shook her head, her blue eyes catching the faintest glimpse of that color once more in the distance.

"No...it...it can't be..." Ember spoke, fear, concern and worry clenching her heart as she dove down in altitude, the color leaving her sight before popping up again. It was no mistake. It was him.

"Flame..." Ember whispered, a sudden desire to not let this dragon escape overwhelming her as her wings increased in speed with each beat.

"Flame! Flame, over here!" Ember cried, her heart hammering in her chest as she raced to meet her partner, yet no matter how hard or how fast she flew, it wasn't enough. Her wings were too wounded to carry her, and the dragoness was forced to land on a rocky slope, tears threatening to fall down her snout.

"Flame...Flame, come back! Ancestors, come back!" Ember pleaded between gasps from exhaustion, her wings going limp as her head hung low to the ground, the red dragon already out of her line of sight.

"Why...why didn't you come back? Why didn't you come back for me?" Ember asked, heartbroken as tears poured down her snout. Flame may have defended her from the hunters, but he never came back for her. All this time she had thought that her would be mate was dead, but now she knew the truth. He was alive, and had never even bothered to return to her.

"I guess that shows how much you really cared." Ember spoke bitterly, her heart aching in pain as she glanced down at the scarf. Looking at it made her feel better. It always did, for some odd reason. It felt as if the cloth gave her support, comfort, as if everything would be okay.

"You obviously don't need me Flame, but I have friends who do. Silas needs me." Ember spoke softly, and with that used all her strength to get herself into the air, grunting as she did so.

By the time the pink dragoness had returned, the sun was setting, fire alighting the sky and horizon. Yet despite the peace, something seemed wrong. She could smell it in the air, and it was smoke, thick smoke.

"Oh, Ancestors, please don't let it be..." Ember's eyes widened as she heard a roar in the distance, a large flock of birds flying away from the direction of the human military camp. Some of it was on fire, the smoke floating up into the setting sky, blocking out the sun.

"Spyro! Oh, Ancestors, Silas needs me!" Ember cried, her terror mounting as she pushed herself to fly faster towards the Duke's camp.

* * *

"Berend! Berend, where are you!" Silas cried, looking desperately around for the boy, Silas having lost Berend in the initial attack. He just woke up from a long, dead sleep too...

"Silas!" Berend called, making his way towards his older kin, coughing as the ash and soot stained their clothes and made them cough.

"There you are! Good boy!" Silas praised, taking his arm and dragging him through the chaos.

"Archers, I want that dragon dead! Aim for the heart!" William cried, rallying his men as they launched a volley of arrows into the sky, Spyro hissing in pain as his demonic white eyes glowed in the darkness of the ash and failing sun. The arrows embedded themselves in the body of the dragon, his wings tattered and torn as the dark mist around his body seemed to grow stronger.

"It is not dead yet! Nothing is killing it, Sir!" A soldier replied, some of the archers now lighting their arrows with dragon fire in an attempt to make an improvement in slaying the beast.

"Silas, look! There it is!" Berend cried, pointing at the dragon as it circled around the camp, picking up a soldier only to throw him against a wooden wall.

"Yes, yes, I-whoa!" Silas backed up, the knight narrowly avoiding on being trampled as the war horses broke from their stalls and ran around in panic, several of the horses were still trapped in their stalls, unable to escape the fire.

"Berend, are you-"

"Silas, it's coming!" Berend cried in terror, Silas' eyes widening in horror as he saw the massive black dragon approaching through the fire and smoke, roaring.

"Ah, Christ! Berend get down!" Silas screamed shrilly, roughly pushing the boy a few feet before his body hit the ground, Silas falling backwards as the wind from Spyro's wings knocked him down, his talons stretched out to skewer the knight.

Silas then heard a deafening roar as another dragon flew from behind him and slammed into Spyro as their talons interlocked, the pair spinning around as their wings flapped wildly, ash and smoke whooshing with violence.

The dragons roared and hissed at each other, tearing at their wings and hardened scales before Spyro managed to slam the smaller dragon into the ground, the dragon crying in pain.

"Ember!" Silas cried, realizing who it was as he got up, unsheathing his sword as he heard the very ground shake as Spyro land.

"Berend, stay here!" Silas ordered, rushing towards the draconic pair and whistling shrilly.

"Hey! It is me that you want, remember!? Remember!?" Silas challenged, Spyro turning his head towards the human as he released a deep hiss, turning his attention towards the lone knight.

"Aim for the black one's talons. Let us see if we can hinder it's movement." William ordered his archers, unsheathing his own sword as several of his knights followed.

Spyro roared as he lunged at the young knight, Silas moving out of the way only to have Spyro hiss in pain, several arrows embedded in his hind legs as his tail sent several of the Duke's knights flying.

"My liege, are you alright?!" Silas asked in concern, seeing his father rush toward the Duke as the man waved him off.

"The dragon is too strong." William stated, looking around to see a fairly large burning tree several feet from the black dragon, "We need to knock that tree down onto the dragon."

"I will help my son." Carl stated, William nodding as he took three of his men with to help break the tree.

"You will not harm my son, dragon!" Carl roared, Silas struggling to keep the dragon at bay as he was knocked on the ground, Carl running and slashing the dragon's wing.

Spyro roared in rage, his wing slamming into the man as Carl was thrown back several feet, Silas' eyes widening in terror the man now back on his feet.

"Father!" Silas cried in worry.

"Silas, look out!" Silas fell to the ground, feeling a smaller body suddenly crash into his form before hearing a cry and a sudden crunch and pop. The short silence was soon followed by the splintering of wood.

When Silas regained his bearings, he looked upon the confusion of the camp. Looking at the tapped dragon, Spyro's scale color had returned to normal, yet the dragon seemed completely void of life, the tree having snapped his wing as the dragon lie trapped underneath, horn broken.

Silas slowly got up, trying to remember what happened before his eyes went wide in realization and terror. He had heard a voice that he had recognized. The voice belonged to Berend's.

"Oh, God, no! Berend!" Silas cried in worry and panic, noticing that the dirt floor was slick with blood and that a small crowd was around a body.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, NO! BEREND!" Silas cried shrilly, Carl breaking himself off from the group, placing his hands on the man's shoulders.

"Silas-"

"Let me see."

"You do not w-"

"I said let me SEE!" Silas roared in rage, pushing the man out of his way and into the small circle, her face paling upon seeing Berend completely pale, a film of sweat drenching his body, eyes wide and glazed over, breathing slow and shallow. And to Silas' horror, the boy was missing his right arm, the shoulder just a bloody stump and the clothes tattered and torn, a belt tied in on an attempt to stop the rapid flow of blood.

"Ohhh, God, Berend, no! This should be me...!" Silas cried, his face flushing in rage as his hands shook, the young man suddenly standing up and unsheathing his sword. Walking towards Spyro, Silas raising his sword to the dragon's neck only to have Carl stay his hand.

"Silas, no! Stay your hand! Stay your hand!"

"No! This beast must die! He is an animal! You have seen the destruction and death that he has brung to us!" Silas roared in rage, still trying to bring his blade down.

"No! Too much blood has been shed today! The Duke wants this dragon captured and restrained."

"To Hell with what the Duke wants! If this dragon does not die today he will only kill others! He-" Silas was silenced as the man smacked him, Silas falling limp from the sudden action.

"Do not let your rage cloud your judgement. Go with your cousin. Berend needs you."

"I...yes, Father." Silas replied, ashamed as he sheathed his sword and watched the Duke and several soldiers carry Berend away, Silas passing Ember, the dragoness looking at him with worry as the knight stopped, as if considering going to the dragoness.

"No. Don't worry about me. Go help him." Ember replied, Silas following his cousin, avoiding the chaos of the survivors trying to calm the horses and put out the fires.

* * *

Spyro groaned as he awoke, pain shooting throughout his body as the purple male tried to move, but found himself chained to metal stakes in the ground. Fear began to grip Spyro as he realized his wing was broken and chained, chains painfully wrapped around his legs and tail and his snout chained shut.

Looking around, the purple dragon noticed the scorched land and smoldering human camp. He couldn't remember what happened, or how he got here. He couldn't even remember what happened to his chicks, or is they were safe. The sudden thought that Spyro had no idea if his children were safe seized his heart with panic.

Spyro's eyes locked and narrowed on the very human that had robbed his children of his mate. Rage grew inside the purple male as Silas approached, unsheathing his sword. The pair said nothing, and Spyro's eyes followed the sword as Silas dragged the tip into the charred earth. The knight stopped in front of the dragon, face emotionless as his sword arm shook violently.

"Do you know how many reasons I have to want you dead?"

* * *

**Poor Silas? Poor Berend? Poor Spyro? Poor Ember? Is Silas' wanting Spyro dead truly justified? Will Spyro die? Find out of the next chapter! **

**Thank you all for reviewing and supporting this story! And on another note, I have a deviantArt page link on my profile largely consisting of the characters. **


	23. Dreams of the Dead

**I apologize for the long delay! College has been keeping me very busy. This chapter contained a very dear historical figure to me, and I could never dream of owning them. Also, I downed the rating to T, but if need be it will be bumped back up to M. Enjoy!**

* * *

"I have more than enough reason to want you and your disgusting race dead. I don't care what Ember says anymore. All you humans are the same! All you do is murder, and-"

"Silence!" Silas roared, striking the dragon roughly with the hilt of his blade, Spyro grunting in pain, "I will not listen to you damn my race any longer! Look around you and open your eyes to your own damn hypocrisy! All this death, all this destruction has been caused by you!"

"Silas, calm down." Ember ushered softly, fear wavering in her voice as the man turned at her, a twisted snarl on his face, eyes wild.

"Do not tell me to calm down whilst Berend lay on his damned death bed!" Silas growled, pointing his blade at the soot covered dragoness, Ember shifting with uncomfortability at the thick ash caked between her toes, scales darkening, as if offended.

"Don't speak like that." Ember ordered, the smoky air becoming stiff as tempers flared.

"I owe Berend more than this! It is I that should be lying there right now, not him! The least I can do is kill the dragon that caused all this! That can at least give my cousin some peace." Silas smoldered, Ember feeling the purple dragon look upon her with confusion and worry.

"Ember, are you alright?" Spyro asked upon seeing the wounds on her body, eyes softening in worry, "Where are my children? What happened?"

"You...do not know? Do not remember?" Ember asked, eyes looking upon the male sadly as Spyro tried to shaking his head, the chains rattling.

"No. Please, tell me what happened! Are the children okay?!" Spyro asked, his voice rising with worry and concern as Ember hesitated, Silas rolling his eyes.

"So you do not remember the taste of human flesh?" Silas asked, voice laced with venom as Spyro looked at the knight with confusion.

"What are you talking about?!" Spyro asked, his concern and confusion rising as the human yelled, roughly kicking the dragon over and over.

"How!? How do you not remember!? Remember, damn you! It was you! You-you that did all this, you that burned, you that killed, you that ripped off the arm of a boy, you that destroyed the life of a boy that has yet see his tenth winter! You-"

"Silas! Silas! Ancestors, stop it!" Ember screamed, ramming the human with her shoulder, easily knocking him to the ground, pupils sharp and narrowed as she stood between man and dragon.

"What has gotten into you?! You know Spyro would never do this! What you saw, what caused all this-that was not Spyro! You know this, Silas!" Ember cried, tail thrashing as she looked at Spyro, worry and terror crossing his face as Silas slowly rose to his feet, coughing.

"Ember, again, and again I have tried to believe you, but each time I am proven wrong. All I have seen from Spyro is hostility and the wish to destroy man, and he has not done one thing to show repentance! Perhaps I could forgive him were I the one laying on a deathbed, but no. I can never forgive him for what he has done, and you are a fool to keep defending him. Do you not see? He is better off dead! Look at all the death and destruction he has caused! How many times can you defend and justify his actions by claiming that is not the real Spyro?"

"He has children, Silas. Do you think he would ever put them in danger?" Ember asked, the human looking at her emotionlessly, a sigh escaping him.

"You have already seen him perform such an act. You truly are a fool if you think he will change." Silas replied, Ember's eyes averting to the side, eyes sullen.

"Many of the soldiers what the blood of the beast. If Berend dies, I shall be the one to pierce my blade in his wretched heart. Either by my hand, or by my brothers', Spyro shall die." Silas spoke lowly, as if brooding before walking off, a trail of disturbed ash rising from the burnt earth following his tracks.

"I'm sorry, Spyro." Ember replied softly, the dragoness turning her gaze to the chained male, his amethyst eyes locking onto her sapphire orbs.

"Ember? Did I...really do all this?" Spyro asked, Ember nodding slowly in response.

"Yes. You did."

"And those wounds you have? Did I do that?"

"You did." Ember replied softly, Spyro looking upon the dragoness with sadness.

"And my children?"

"They are safe." Ember replied simply, Spyro sighing before letting his head hit the ground, dust and ash fluttering up into the grey sky.

"I'm sorry for doing this to you, Ember. I'm not sure what I did, but I would never...do anything to put you or the children in danger, not with a clear mind. I know...I know whatever you did...it was the right thing to do." Spyro spoke, voice choking as tears began to run down his snout. Ember released a deep breath as she lowered her snout, feeling cool iron and warm scales wet with tears as she nuzzled the male.

"Oh, Spyro...don't say that. It wasn't you. It's okay."

"No. No, it's not. It's horrible. I know I should feel guilty, feel something for what I did to these humans...to that human child, but I feel nothing. I just hate them so much, and I can't beat it, I can't make it go away! He's just too strong, Ember." Spyro whimpered, nostrils flaring as his tears cleaned both of their scales, Ember's brilliant pink scales beginning to shine through despite the soot covering her body.

"Who is 'he', Spyro?" Ember asked, her terror growing as she pulled away slightly, as if nervous.

"Me." Spyro replied softly, as if ashamed, "I can't let go of the hate! Seeing Cynder...what they did to her-what he did to her! They deserve no mercy! He deserves no mercy!"

"Ancestors, Spyro, just stop it! I don't want anything to happen to you, I really don't, but-but you have to stop! Let it go! Let it go, Spyro!" Ember begged, the purple male shaking his head.

"I can't, Ember. I tried, but I can't. Avenging Cynder for what they did...that's all I can think about, and it's stronger now. I can't stop it. It's a part of me now, the hate, the anger, the rage." Spyro unburdened, Ember closing her eyes, as if in pain from hearing the words, the female slowly shaking her head.

"Spyro..." Ember broke off, as if struggling within herself to speak, to believe, "I...I want to believe that you can get better, that that...evilness...that darkness...it isn't you. It isn't the real you, but...now I don't know what to believe. Maybe...Maybe Silas is right." Ember continued, voice shaken as tears began to rim around her eyes, looking at her kin.

"You are all I have left of the past, of the happy memories when we were children. When we were safe, and warm, and protected. Everyone was happy. You, me, Cynder, Flame...we were so happy back then. Do you remember, Spyro? Do you even remember the last time you were happy, and not consumed with anger? I bet you don't!" Ember stated, Spyro looking at the pink dragoness, unreadable. He now knew where her loyalties were.

"I just...I want you to get better, Spyro. That's all I want, but...I'm not sure if you can get better." Ember spoke, voice sullen as she looked at the male one last time before sighing and slowly trudging away.

Spyro watched as his childhood friend walked away, feeling his anger boil and smolder underneath his scales despite his body's plea for rest. The pain within the dragon's body became too much, and the purple male found himself drifting off into death's second self.

As Spyro opened his eyes, the purple dragon found himself in an entirely different area. Confusion hit the dragon as he found himself no longer bound by chains, the ashen dirt solidifying into a beautiful cobblestone floor swirling with greys and earthen tones. The walls were made out of stone, a large oak door leading out of the room, parallel to the stone walls giving way to a balcony that overlooked into the sky. The open windows allowed bright sunlight to spill across the room, their soft linen tapestries flowing gently in the soft breeze that seemed to whisper to the dragon. Several bookcases filled with their contents lined the walls along with several paintings of what Spyro had to guess were human lords. Off to the side in a small corner lay a desk covered in several scrolls and documents, scented wax hardening upon the sealed papers, light illuminating the scene with several candles as their flame danced softly against the wind.

Spyro looked upon the scene before him, feeling an odd mix of foreign discomfort yet familiality. The purple dragon could swear that he could hear the calls of his kin from just outside the balcony, into the sky. To Spyro's dismay, however, he could not see them. It was strange. The foundation seemed so cold and harsh, yet the air was warm and calming.

"Hello? Is anyone here?" Spyro asked, hearing nothing but the wind breathing against the tapestries, causing the soft linen to move in speed, as if frantic before dying down. To Spyro's surprise, a figure seemed to emerge out of the cloth itself. Tall, yet thin, as if sickly and covered in pure white cloth from head to toe, golden embroidery proudly showing itself on the human's collar and chest. There was no flesh shown on the human, and where the flesh of arm would be seen, there was only medical bandages that were tightly wrapped around the limbs and neck, However, the strangest part of the human was the fact that no face could be seen. In it's place was a silver mask, stainless and perfectly crafted, the light softly reflecting off the cold surface.

"Oh. My apologies, I did not hear you arrive. I hope you did not wait too long." The human spoke, voice soft yet strong, speaking without pause.

"You were expecting me? What would you want with a dragon other than slaying one?" Spyro asked, eyes narrowing upon the human.

"Regardless of what you think, I have no ill will for your kind. I do, however, wish to help you." The human spoke, Spyro looking at the human with skepticism.

"Help me? Why would a human what to help me?"

"Because God still has a great use for you." The human replied, head cocked slightly to the side, a soft chuckle escaping him as he motioned for the dragon to rest with a bandaged hand. Spyro rolled his eyes. He had no interest in a human god.

"Please, sit." The man spoke, Spyro resting on his haunches as the man moved behind his desk and slowly, almost painfully, lowered himself onto the chair.

"Who are you? Are you a human lord?" Spyro asked, his eyes looking upon the human's, a bright blue rimmed with a red hue. The man chuckled once more, as if amused.

"I am Baldwin the Fourth, once known as the Leper King of Jerusalem."

"Once? So you are dead?" Spyro asked, confused.

"Yes. Does that shock you?"

"No. It's just that...only the Ancestors appear in my dreams. I never had a human enter mine." Spyro spoke.

"Tell me, friend, do you feel her? Do you feel her presence?" Baldwin asked, Spyro's eyes showing confusion.

"Who?"

"Your partner. Cynder, I believe her name is?"

"C...Cynder? How do you know her name? Is she here?" Spyro asked, startled as the man nodded.

"Yes, somewhat. I assume you are getting a sense of...warmth? That is she." Baldwin spoke, Spyro looking around to find Cynder, but became dismayed upon seeing nothing. He did, however, feel a strange sense of warmth on his side.

"Do not let your eyes fool you. She is here."

"I feel her, but why do I not see her?" Spyro asked, dismayed as he looked at the Leper in desperation.

"From what I understand, when dragons die, they return to nature, yes? If that is true, Cynder is far too much a part of the world to fully appear in a spiritual setting. She is always there, always here, but too far wordly to completely appear here." Baldwin spoke, Spyro shaking his head.

"I don't understand."

"Dragons and humans...we die the same, yet our spirits travel different paths. It affects us differently. Cynder will remain as a part of the world, yet my spirit is not allowed to return to my mortal home ever again. The only way we can come to even ground is through dreams."

"They why are you here?" Spyro asked, looking at the man before him.

"Because she wants you to understand." Baldwin spoke, resting back in the chair, head cocked slightly, "Now tell me, why is it that you still harbor such rage?"

"I think that is obvious." Spyro stated, tail moving with annoyance.

"Nothing is as obvious as it seems. You and I...we are very much alike." Baldwin spoke, Spyro looking upon the human with offence.

"You would compare yourself to me?" Spyro asked, the Leper nodding in response.

"Regardless of what you think, yes. Tell me, what is your truest opinion of man?" Baldwin asked, leaning forward slightly, intent as Spyro hesitated.

"I don't think you want to know." Spyro answered, looking upon the human's frail form.

Baldwin simply blinked, "I would not ask if I truly did not want to know."

"Very well..." Spyro replied after a sigh, "I hate them. I hate all humans. They are nothing but disgusting, disease ridden creatures intent on killing! Selfish, filthy, cruel and unjust!"

"And why do you hate man?"

"Because...because they killed Cynder! Murdered her, butchered her, robbed my children of their mother and I of my love! My family-Cynder-she did nothing to deserve that and they just...they just slaughtered her like an animal! He did!" Spyro roared in rage, breath raging as Baldwin studied the dragon, patient.

It took several seconds for Spyro to calm down, his breathing returning to normal as his wings went limp by his side.

"Does...does that offend you? Are you happy, now that you know what I truly think?" Spyro asked, Baldwin taking a moment to respond, shaking his head.

"No, because what you speak is true." Baldwin replied, Spyro's eyes widening in slightly shock.

"Wh...what? You agree?"

"Tell me, did you ever hear of the Crusades?" Baldwin asked, Spyro shaking his head.

"No, never."

"They were Holy Wars. Though I fought for the Crusader States, and in the name of God-as many of my allies did-most were far from merciful. The majority of the war was between the Christians and Muslims, I leading the Christians, and Saladin leading the Arabs." Baldwin explained, Spyro looking slightly uninterested.

"Humans fighting over their beliefs? How shocking." Spyro spoke, Baldwin shifting in his seat, ignoring the comment.

"My point is, anyone can fight in the name of God, or their beliefs, and easily abuse that reasoning. During my rule, I had many problems with my generals attacking unarmed Muslim caravans in an attempt to bring war. Every religion, every belief, has extremist views or will use their religion as a scapegoat for their actions, and will cause the earnest of followers to suffer from stigmatic views. Because men murdered your love, you now label every human you see as a murderer, as verman. Is that fair? Is an unborn child still in its mother's womb a born killer? Does that child deserve to die just because it is born human? You mentioned you have children? Do your children deserve to die in the eyes of men just because they label all dragons as mindless beasts? Will your children die because of something their father did to quell his rage? Tell me, what kind of example are you showing your children? How are you as a father?" Baldwin asked, voice softening as Spyro mauled over what the man was saying, asking him.

"What kind of example? I...show them how to be...wary, and to not trust all humans." Spyro answered, Baldwin looking at the purple dragon, his deeply bandaged hand resting on the desk.

"I see. So you are teaching your children to be stereotypical towards humans by shutting them out of the lives of your children? Without...contact...your children will go down the very same path that you are now. While it is wise that they should not trust all humans, they should also learn that not every human has malicious intent. Is that wise? Are your actions causing your children to grow from your mistakes, or become filled with terror and rage? Is that what you want? For your children to fear everything, even you?" Baldwin asked, watching intently for any movement in the dragon as Spyro shook his head.

"No, I don't want my children to fear me, but...with this rage...I don't want them to become me. I don't want them to suffer because of something I did. I could never live with myself if something happened." Spyro spoke, head dropping.

"Then why do you let the anger control you?" The Leper asked, Spyro falling silent in thought, yet already knew why.

"Because it's a part of me." Spyro replied, ashamed and sullen as Baldwin looked upon the dragon, eyes showing pity as the man sighed. Baldwin's thin arm rose from his lap, delicate, bandaged fingers tugging at the cloth of his damaged hand with some difficulty. Broken, yet graceful.

Spyro's eyes widened in shock and pity as the cloth that was protecting the damaged hand was removed, revealing a highly damaged hand covered in sores and puss filled blisters, red and swollen. The very fingers were large and stubby, almost seeming to be mended together in a pile of flesh only to have the very tips of the fingers scarred with large blisters, the fingernails completely gone.

"Oh, Ancestors..." Spyro muttered, at a loss for words.

"This disease...is both my blessing, and my curse. Because of this disease, I never claimed a wife, I never had children, I was in poor health throughout my life, I became blind and bedridden during a time when my people needed me the most, I was considered damned by God and cursed to Hell, and I died at the age of twenty-four. I had every right to be angry with this illness, this damnation. I had every right to be a horrible King, yet not once did I jeopardize my Kingdom, my people because of my illness. I could have wished for the most beautiful women to come to me, yet I did not. My people...they were my children, and it was my right to defend them. I accepted my illness, I accepted that I would not live to see thirty, and I conquered my disease, my curse, and in return it became my strength."

"How did it become your strength?" Spyro asked, a soft chuckle escaping the King, the man suddenly leaning closer, as if to tell a secret, pure cloth draping over his masked head gently.

"Do you know why I choose to remain in this wretched body?" Baldwin asked, Spyro shaking his head. The man was playing the old 'A question for a question and an answer for an answer' game.

"No. Why?"

"Because if I had never developed leprosy, where would I be? While my life may have been more filling, would I truly be the same person? Would I have the same values, same morals? Would I make the same sacrifices I have made with my weakened body to protect my lands, my people, my family? What if I would be too selfish to make those sacrifices? At least with this weakened body, I know who I am, and I would not change my condition if I had the chance to do so again. Leprosy aided me into becoming the man that I am, and has allowed me to see the world differently, to be a better King. For those reasons, being a leper has strengthened me. Can you do it? Can you accept your rage as a part of you? Can you control it, and stop your illness from taking dominance of your existence?" The Leper asked, slowly rewrapping his damaged hand.

"I...I don't know. He's too strong. All I see is Cynder. All I see is what he did to her!" Spyro cried, feeling warmth suddenly rub against his snout.

"And why do you keep remembering her as such?" Baldwin asked.

"Because what they did...is unforgivable. If I forget what they did to her, then Cynder can never be at peace."

"So you choose to remember her as a defiled corpse in death, rather than what you saw her as while she was alive? 'Remember me as I was.' That is what I said to my beautiful sister while on my deathbed. For years she had not seen my face, and I did not wish for her to see me, for it would shatter her fantasy of me as a little boy, and show me as the wretched man I had become. I would rather have my beloved Sibylla remember me as the same boy when we were children, happy and full of hope and life. It made my passing on her much easier, and I apologized for any sorrow I had caused her. You must stop seeing the desiccation of Cynder in your mind, and remember her for what she truly was. Were the situation reversed, would you want Cynder to be tortured by seeing your broken body, and remembering you that way? Or would you want Cynder to remember you as you were?" Baldwin asked, hand now completely covered as Spyro looked at the man, a mix of emotion showing in this amethysts eyes.

"I would want her to remember me as I was. I wouldn't want Cynder to suffer just because I was gone. I would want her to remember all the amazing moments we had with each other, all the good moments that no one could ever take away, even were I to die. I would just want her to be happy." Spyro responded, Baldwin remaining silent, as if in thought.

"I would...give anything for her be alive, even if it meant that I were to die." Spyro continued, voice breaking as his eyes began to water, a soothing presence enveloping him, washing over him in comfort.

"I...I feel her. I feel you, C...Cynder. Ancestors, I love you so much...I...I'm so sorry! I failed!" Spyro sobbed, body wracking in emotional turmoil.

"Do you understand now?" Baldwin asked softly, Spyro failing to respond for several seconds, golden chest heaving.

"Yes. Sh...She's happy. She forgives them, forgives him." Spyro replied, voice broken as he looked upon the human, Baldwin's sick eyes boring into the dragon's.

"Can you forgive him? Can you accept your rage?" The Leper asked, Spyro pausing the longest, debating inside himself, the darkest corners of his mind raging.

"I can try. I can. Even if I can't come to terms with myself, knowing Cynder is safe and happy is all I need to help." Spyro replied, eyes showing relief, and for the first time, peace.

"I am glad to hear it." Baldwin replied, a much lighter tone in his voice as he slowly rose from his seat.

"Promise me, dragon friend...promise me that you will keep your children safe, and that you will always put them before your own wants and needs. Those children are your only responsibility, and yours alone. Their success or failure is in your hands. Remember that." Baldwin spoke, a slender, feminine finger pointing towards the dragon.

"I will. I promise. Thank you." Spyro replied, smiling as the room began to fade to white, the Leper disappearing within the mist, yet even as everything else faded, the familiar presence of his mate stayed, and as the dragon awoke Spyro could hear her soft voice echoing in his pounding skull.

"I'm with you, Spyro. I love you."

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**Spyro needed a major character change. He might not change completely after this, but he's starting to. It's a better result than killing him. As for Baldwin, I fear he snuck in because The Leper King has been lacking it's protagonist. Thank you all for supporting this story! **


	24. The Litch

**Well, here is the next chapter! I hope you all enjoy.**

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"O, Holy Father and Son in Heaven, please grant thy mercy upon this poor soul." Silas prayed softly, fingers interlocked and eyes tightly shut as the man sat on a chair parallel to the bed where his kin lay.

"Please...grant thy mercy, Lord...grant thy mercy...I beg of you..." Silas broke off, licking his chapped lips, tired eyes reopening and glancing to a small cross just above the tent's entrance, fingers to interlaced.

"He does not deserve this. He does not deserve this, Lord. Please do not do this. He is just a boy, a child! Please, if there is anyone that should suffer for this travesty it should be me. Allow me to suffer, allow me to burn so long as he can live. Please...do not abandon us...do not abandon me..." Silas begged, pleaded, eyes beginning to water yet refused to flood as he looked upon the bed. The sheets were stained with thick and drying blood, Berend completely still, eyes yet wide and lacking focus, a thick film of sweat covering his pale body. The only thing that could give the boy's status away was the slow and fragile rise and fall of his thin chest.

"S...S...S..." Silas turned his head towards the boy, mouth slightly a gap before realizing that it was not the wind blowing, but the softness of the boy's voice struggling to break free.

"Berend? Berend, I am here." Silas responded softly, getting off of his chair as he kneeled down to the boy's level, Berend slowly turning his head towards the man's voice, saliva flowing lazily out of a corner of the boy's mouth.

"No, no, no. Do not look, do not look. You do not look at your arm, you look at me. Do you understand?" Silas asked, unsure if his kin fully understood as the man propped the boy's head so he now fully looked upon him.

"Berend, you look at me, and only me, do you understand? Look at me and remember the guilt and embarrassment that I am. It should be me that is laying upon this bed, not you. I pray that you understand that. It should not be you. Even though you are but a boy, I do not see you as such. I see you as a man, for what you did, for your suffering...I could not do. Even as a child, you have shamed me, embarrassed me, for you had accomplished something, and had turned the tides. While I tried to protect you, it was you have began to protect me, and for that...I am most proud, and I love you even more because I know-I know-that you will not become me. If something...if something goes wrong, I swear to you that the serpent shall pay. You have my oath, and you have my love. Please, just know that even though I claim you are the most annoying, vexing, aggravating boy turned man in the world, that I would give anything to trade places, and have you be spared of pain and misery. I love you, cousin, and should I falter and you thrive, do not become me." Silas spoke, his voice breaking and tears welling in his eyes as the knight kissed the boy's brow, allowing him to drift into unconsciousness.

Sullen, Silas made his way back to his chair and heavily sat down, thoughts racing, heart racing in terror as he eyed the small body, fearing that each breath may very well be the boy's last.

"Hail, The Litch of Bavaria returns!" Ember's head snapped in the direction of the shouting human tongue, her eyes glazed with curiosity and joy upon seeing a familiar man emerge with one of the Duke's soldiers.

Ember approached the direction of the man, several of the soldiers giving her a wide berth. The Duke had ordered them to not attack the pink dragon, yet they were still highly wary of the creature. The only thing that disturbed them more as the return of the Necromancer, many of the men crossing themselves in fear that the man would steal their souls just by looking at him, or performing hexes when Rorek was not looking at them.

"W...What happened here?" Ferox asked, eyes wide as Seraphina looked around in the man's arms, eyes wide with alertness and nostrils flaring. Arias did the same, the young drakeling alert as he followed the black clad man, Rorek looking slowly upon the smoldering camp.

"A dragon attacked. Big, nasty one that the Duke ordered captured. Many of the men do not agree that we should keep the beast alive, but while we do not agree, we respect his word." A paladin answered, Ferox eyeing the approaching dragoness with wide eyes.

"And that one?" Ferox asked, eyes alight with admiration as Ember's eyes shined upon seeing the children safe.

"Safe. It helped us fight the sky-plague when it attacked. I give it a wide berth though." The man replied, Ember ignoring the comment as she approached, the drakelings screeching with excitement.

"Oh, thank the Ancestors that you are safe!" Ember spoke, breathing a sigh of relief as Seraphina broke from the soldier's grip and plummeted the short distance to the ground, her natural baby fat breaking her fall.

Ember's eyes softened as she nuzzled the chicks affectionately, blue eyes locking with Rorek's green in a language yet unspoken.

"Hello, honies! Auntie Ember will take good care of you now!" Ember chirped, a level of excitement rising in her voice as the dragoness moved towards Rorek, voice hushed, "Go see Silas! Something terrible has happened!"

"Joy." Rorek replied, looking around the ruined camp briefly before slowly moving off, passing Spyro tied by chain, yet the man did not give the dragon any heed.

Moving through the camp, Rorek felt his heart drop. They would never win this war. They would never be able to avenge the dead. He would never be able to protect Anaya in death, whereas he failed whilst she still lived. All because of that damned dragon.

Rorek ignored any feeble attempts the men made at performing ward spells or crossing themselves as he passed. Most stared upon his form, and gave the Necromancer a wide berth in terror.

"You there, boy. Do you know where the Duchess' knight is?" Rorek asked a boy, the boy draining of color, eyes widening in terror as his body shook at the man before him.

Rorek stared at the Page before him, awaiting an answer as the boy stuttered. It looked as if he were about to cry in terror.

"Come now, I do not have all day." Rorek spoke, feeling irritation build in the pit of his stomach, yet his voice did not betray him. A foul smell hit the man's nose, causing Rorek to scrunch his nose slightly as he looked down at the rapidly growing stain between the boy's legs. Much to the boy's embarrassment, he had pissed himself.

"Yes, piss on yourself because that will solve all our problems. Truly wonderful." Rorek replied, sarcasm heavily in his voice as he began to wonder off, leaving the boy to further embarrass himself.

Rorek wandered until he heard the groans of wounded soldiers, seeing a few men on makeshift beds on the ground, burt and bleeding. Looking around, Rorek noticed there was no healer tending to the fallen. Moving inside the tent, Rorek saw Silas sitting near a bed, several others in cots.

Silas said nothing as he looked upon the man, Rorek gazing upon the knight in a silent agreement before the shorter man towards Berend laying on the cot, studying the boy.

"His veins need stitching. The wound will get infected otherwise." Rorek asked, Silas looking upon the man.

"Are you suddenly a healer now?"

"I very well may be, considering I see no healer in this camp." Rorek stated, Silas watching as the man produced a small wool of thread from an inner pocket, biting the thin thread with his teeth.

"Do you know what you are doing?" Silas asked, his unease growing as Rorek kneeled next to the boy, fingers fiddling with the thread.

"I have years of practise." Rorek stated, removing the cloth to reveal the Berend's bloody stump, blood still rushing freely.

'You are a very lucky boy.' Rorek thought, seeing the amount of blood the boy had lost, skin now horribly pale.

"I will make this quick." Rorek stated to himself, fingers touching tendon and and bone, finding the major arteries and veins as he pinched the ends shut, tying knots around the blood vessels as the blood ceased to flow. It only took a matter of minutes.

"There. At least the boy will not bleed out from any major blood vessels. Our only concern now is if the blood vessels burst." Rorek replied, Silas smiling, yet his eyes shown with sadness.

"Yet he is not fully safe."

"Only time will tell. Well, if anyone else needs stitching, I might as well get to it." Rorek commented, Silas looking at the man oddly.

"But what of your wounds?"

"They will heal in time." Rorek stated before exiting the tent, observing the soldiers outside before settling on a man that had a deep gash in his arm.

"What do you want, corpse walker?" The man asked, the slightest hint of aggression in his voice as Rorek kneeled down, arm stinging in pain from his previous wound, and his side burned, yet he let it show not to the man.

"I have noticed that you have the absence of a healer, so I am taking that place." Rorek stated, the man grunting.

"Better for you to be strung up and torn apart by horses or burned at the stake." The man replied, the slightest tug at the corners of Rorek's mouth showing.

"I fear they have already tried, and failed, my friend."

"Not hard enough. All your kind should be hunted to the ends of the earth and put to the stake."

"My kind?"

"All you devil worshipers do is raise the dead and have them be your slave, steal souls, feed on the dead, harvest their organs, defile them in your bed, and torment the living by seeing their dead!" The man roared, Rorek feeling annoyance quickly creep into his soul. If anything pushed his buttons more, it was being labeled as such a necromancer.

"But they are not I. I have never raised the dead for my own gain. I have always raised the dead or contacted the spirits for the family members, never for power, never for wealth, and never for worldly gains. I do not-will not-raise the dead in such a disgusting manner." Rorek stated, barely flinching as the man spat on him, feeling a large glob on his cheek.

"You are one forked tongue lair! The Duchess should have suffered more before they cleaved her head!" The man hissed, Rorek feeling his anger rise. He didn't care if this man was drunk, or got thinking clearly from blood loss, or was a fecher. No one dared speak about his lover in such a manner.

"How dare you-"

"They should have ripped the bastard-demon out of her belly and serve it to her in cooked meat!"

"You bastard!" Rorek snarled, pouncing on the man and clawing at his eyes, Silas coming out after hearing the commotion.

"Good Lord!" Silas cried, running towards Rorek and pulling the shorter man off, easily holding him back.

"Rorek, stop it! Stop it!"

"No! I shall kill him! I shall kill him!" Rorek screeched, sinking his teeth into Silas' arm, causing the knight to yelp in surprize and allow the man to slip out of his grip.

"Stop! I said stop, damn you!" Silas cried, watching in horror as the man tried to quite literally rip the man's throat out with his teeth.

"Enough!" Silas shouted, ramming the smaller man off the soldier, pinning him to the ground as the pair began to struggle on the ground.

"Good God, what is the meaning of this?!" William cried, Silas finally restraining the necromancer, much to Rorek's dismay.

"He insulted my love and your daughter! Death is what that man deserves!" Rorek hissed shrilly, Silas watching the Duke for any sign of confirmation.

"Let him go." William ordered, Silas letting Rorek go, the man not budging from his place.

"Is this true?"

"I heard shouting from outside the tent. Would I did not hear all of it, I did hear the aggressive shouting. He spoke off...ripping the child from your daughter's womb." Silas answered, William looking at the man.

"Put him in stocks. Let the wolves eat him." The Duke replied, Silas nodding before taking the man away, William looking at the man before him.

"You should never have come here."

"With or without your fancy, here I am." Rorek stated, William looking at the man long and hard.

"You killed my daughter."

"In all due respect, it was not I, but the King, your brother, and the uncle of your precious daughter." Rorek answered.

"True, but you played your part in her death."

"That I did." Rorek answered, the pair remaining quiet for the long time.

"I am still not sure whether you are friend or foe." William spoke, "I should, and do rightfully, detest you, yet...you have no reason to be here, rather, by coming here it will most likely lead to your death. Why?"

"My answers are my own, but do not doubt me when I say that I am loyal to your daughter, even while she lay dead."

"I see. Answer me this, truthfully. Did you truly have feelings for my daughter, or did you simply use her for your own personal needs?"

Rorek stared at the man for the longest time, to which the father awaited anxiously.

"I..." Rorek started, yet found the words dying upon his tongue, and he found himself unable to speak the words that he wished to say.

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**I'm not sure if that question will ever be answered. I apologize if this story is getting boring, but I like to take my time with chapters and prevent creating a cluster fuck of half assed chapters that rush the plot. You can imagine whatever you want Rorek to say. And the next chapter will explain why the people are suddenly calling Rorek a Litch instead of a Necromancer. Thank you all for your support and please review! :)**


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